


The City of Magnificent Intentions

by gleefulmusings



Category: Bones (TV), Glee, Madam Secretary, Scandal (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-18
Updated: 2017-08-16
Packaged: 2018-12-03 16:23:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 22,059
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11535960
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gleefulmusings/pseuds/gleefulmusings
Summary: Kurt is spending the summer in DC, which means quality time with his Uncle Blake at the State Department. He also catches up with his godmother, Olivia Pope, and aunt, Dr. Camille Saroyan.





	1. The Capital City

**Author's Note:**

> I just finished marathoning Season Three of _Madam Secretary_. I fell in love with that world all over again and desired to see Kurt in it. Thus, Uncle Blake.
> 
> This takes place loosely in my _Runs in the Family_ verse. Is Kurt psychic here? I haven't decided yet. I welcome your thoughts in the comments.

“I need some advice.”

Elizabeth looked up from her desk and over her glasses at her assistant, who appeared more anxious than usual. By now, she was more than used to and accepting of Blake’s quirks, which was why she immediately recognized he was in true distress.

“Has something happened? Do you need help?”

He shook his head, continuing to wring his hands. “Nothing unsavory has occurred. My nephew is coming to stay with me for a month and I have no idea what to do with him.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Isn’t Teddy a little young to be away from his parents for so long?”

He suppressed his blush of pleasure that she remembered the name. “Not Teddy. My other nephew, Kurt.”

She blinked. “I thought your sister only had two children,” she said, gesturing him to sit down.

Blake quickly took a seat. “She does. Kurt is the son of my other sister.”

“What?”

They both turned to look at the source of the question, not terribly surprised to see Jay, Matt, and Daisy staring back at them with fervor. They were always interested in gossip surrounding their most private coworker, not to mention slightly jealous that Blake had so endeared himself to both the Secretary and Nadine, the latter of whom appeared, as always, completely unruffled.

Blake sighed.

“In the future, knock,” Elizabeth said with just enough bite to cause her subordinates to wince.

“It’s fine,” Blake said, waving a hand. “It’s not as though it’s a state secret.” He cleared his throat. “In addition to Sarah, whom you all know about, I have two other sisters. Kurt is the only child of my eldest sister, Suzanne.”

“What does she do?” Matt asked.

“She’s dead.”

Matt’s mouth fell open and, blessedly, said nothing else.

“Sarah and I share the same mother. My other sisters and I share the same father. Dad adopted me shortly after he married Mom, when I was almost two. Three years later, they had Sarah.”

Elizabeth took a moment. “Did you always know you were adopted?” she finally asked.

“No,” Blake said. “I had no idea until I was eighteen and a lawyer showed up at my dorm with a fat check for my part of my birth father’s estate. Neither Suzanne nor Camille, my other sister, knew about me, or about each other.”

“Jesus,” Jay said, sitting down on the couch. “That’s … that’s … are you okay?”

“I am. It was a surprise but, in many ways, a happy one. I had always felt so out of place in my family. Not because I felt unloved, I always knew they loved me, but we share few physical characteristics and very different values. It helped to know that I came by them honestly, and not just because I’m weird.”

“You’re very weird,” Nadine assured him.

Daisy, Matt, and Jay were titillated and appalled by the remark, until they noticed Blake giving Nadine a sly wink.

“So Kurt is coming to stay with you,” Elizabeth interjected, bringing the subject back at hand. “How old is he?”

“Kurt is seventeen. He just graduated high school and, before starting college, he wants to get to know me better. He and Camille are very close, but we’ve only met a few times over the years. I don’t really know him and I’m nervous about alienating him.”

Nadine frowned. “How would you do that?”

Blake looked down at his hands. “I’m not good with children. Even though Kurt is no longer a child, he still is to me. I never … I never made time for him, and I think that hurt him. It’s not that I don’t love him, because I absolutely do, but I don’t know how … it’s hard for me to separate him from his mother, and that’s not fair to him.”

“How long ago did Suzanne die?” Elizabeth gently asked.

Blake closed his eyes and swallowed. “Almost twelve years. Ovarian cancer. She didn’t even know she was sick until she suffered a miscarriage and an ultrasound discovered the tumors. Kurt was five.”

“That’s awful,” Daisy whispered.

“It really was,” Blake said tightly, his voice cracking. “She … she, well, you remind me a lot of her, ma’am,” he said to Elizabeth. “Ridiculously beautiful, extremely intelligent, takes crap from no one …”

Elizabeth gave him a crooked grin, truly touched by the comment. “She sounds like someone I would have liked to have met.”

“Everyone loved her,” Blake said quietly, “and Kurt is so much like her that it’s almost phantasmagoric. He has her eyes, the most startling shade of blue I’ve ever seen. They’re blue and green and gray and gold, all swirled together. I look at him and I see her.”

He looked away. “It hurts.”

Nadine crossed over and laid a hand on his shoulder.

He cleared his throat again. “But Kurt was adamant about staying with me for part of the time he’s in DC, and I couldn’t say no. He’s very important to me, but I’m afraid I’m going to do or say the wrong thing and that will be the end of it.”

Elizabeth removed her glasses. “Well, he obviously values family, which I find extremely admirable. Don’t overthink this, Blake. Kurt is coming to spend time with you, and I doubt he’d enjoy that time if all you do is come up with activities to distract him.”

He blushed. “Well, he’s not coming just for me, but I guess that’s a big part of it.”

“What do you know about him?” asked a curious Daisy.

Blake pursed his lips and gathered his thoughts. “He’s very intelligent, with an IQ in the high one-sixties. He’s a National Merit Scholar and, through his AP classes and summer courses at the local community college, he’ll be starting at GW as a second-semester sophomore.”

“Okay,” Elizabeth said slowly, “ _wow_.”

“He’s fluent in seven languages, at an intermediate level with four others, and can read and write Latin and Ancient Greek. He draws; sketches, mostly. He’s an accomplished singer with a four-octave range who helped lead his glee club to a national victory this year. He’s also a cheerleader, the head of his squad, with two national titles under his belt.”

Elizabeth stared. “Blake, if you keep going, I can’t promise that I won’t try to recruit him when he arrives.”

Blake grinned. “Too late. He’ll be staying a month with me before he moves in with Camille. He was accepted into an internship program in her division, though he didn’t tell her until he had successfully interviewed.” He shrugged. “But that’s Kurt. He’s only interested in things he earns on his own merits.”

“And what does Camille do?” Elizabeth asked.

“She’s the Head of the Medicolegal Division of the Jeffersonian.”

“Excuse me!” Daisy hollered, sticking a finger into the air. “Are you talking about _Camille Saroyan?_ _That_ Head of the Medicolegal Division of the Jeffersonian? The very _black_ Camille Saroyan? _Camille Saroyan is your sister?_ ”

“Yes,” Blake said in a clipped voice. “What, exactly, is your issue?”

“How did I, your closest black friend, not know you had a black sister?”

He shrugged. “It never came up. Camille is my _sister_ , not my _black_ sister.”

Daisy immediately shut up.

“I take it Kurt is interested in medicine,” Elizabeth said.

Blake nodded. “He is, particularly forensic pathology. Cam is a pathologist, and so is one of Kurt’s godmothers. I guess it runs in the family.”

“Two godmothers?” Jay asked. “That’s unusual.”

“Not if you met them,” Blake countered. “I can’t imagine anyone better suited for the job. They both love Kurt to pieces and would happily dismember any person who threatened him.”

Elizabeth frowned at the dark look that suddenly crossed Blake’s face.

“Blake, what aren’t you saying?”

He set his jaw. “Kurt is from a very small town in Ohio. He’s also gay and proud of it. Those two things did not mix well.”

Nadine squared her shoulders as her eyes filled with venom. Elizabeth kept her cool, but she was equally disturbed. It bothered her greatly that part of her job was securing equal rights for people in other countries while, at home, that battle was still being fought with varying degrees of success.

Blake, with great reluctance, summarized what Kurt had endured in Lima, though he suspected what he knew didn’t even scratch the surface. The others were absolutely appalled.

“I want him to be happy here,” Blake said quietly, “even if it’s just for a month. I want him to know I love him and that he can depend on me.”

Elizabeth smiled. “So tell him that.”

A bewildered Blake blinked dumbly at her.

“That’s really all you need to do, Blake. You can shepherd him around DC all you want but, at the end of the day, he just wants to spend time with you. Give him that time.”

Tears appeared in his eyes. “I don’t know how.”

“Why don’t you talk with Camille?” Nadine suggested. “You said she and Kurt are close, so tell her about your worries and listen to what she has to say.”

He nodded. “I can do that. His first night here, I’ve arranged for us to have dinner with Camille and Olivia, his other godmother.”

“Olivia also lives in DC?” Matt asked.

Blake nodded. “Olivia Pope.”

Daisy had to put her hands over her mouth to keep from screeching.

Elizabeth put up her own hands. “Are you kidding me? Let’s recap: your nephew is coming to visit. His aunt, your other sister, is Doctor Camille Saroyan. His godmother is Olivia Pope, of Olivia Pope and Associates, former Communications Director of the Grant Administration. Is that all?”

Blake frowned. “What do you mean?”

“Any other famous relatives or godparents?” Jay piped up.

“Well, his other godmother is Doctor Megan Hunt …”

“Out of Philadelphia?” Nadine pressed. “She was at the center of that biological terror attack a few years ago, right?”

“Yes. So what?”

“You don’t think that’s a bit unusual?” Matt asked.

Blake soured, feeling defensive. “Not really. Most of the family, even those in medicine, are involved in law enforcement in some capacity.”

Elizabeth felt a migraine approaching and decided it was best to table the discussion. The last thing she wanted was to offend or piss off Blake. He had the running of the office down to an exact science, and when he got moody, things tended to fall apart. She didn’t know when it had happened, when Blake had become as integral to this job as she was, but she wasn’t about to risk alienating him.

“Since Kurt will be with you for a month, why don’t you bring him into the office now and then? We’d all like to meet him, and maybe he’d be interested in seeing what goes on behind the scenes.”

Blake was floored. “Really?”

“Absolutely. I’d be happy to meet someone who is so obviously important to you, especially a person who is as intelligent as Kurt.”

“Thank you, ma’am,” said a humble Blake. “I think he’d enjoy it.”

 

* * *

 

 

“Any sign of him?” Elizabeth whispered to Nadine, who met her boss at the elevator.

“Negative, ma’am. You know Blake starts his day at four-thirty, and apparently Kurt decided to get up that early was akin to barbarism.”

Elizabeth snorted. “An exact quote?”

“Of course.”

“And how’s Blake?”

“Fine, thank you,” Blake said, rushing up to her. “Today’s agenda …”

“Can wait,” Elizabeth interrupted, looping her arm through his. “Tell me about Kurt’s visit so far.”

A shy Blake ducked his head and grinned. “It’s going really well. Thank you for your advice. I took it, and it’s working. I’m enjoying getting to know him.”

She tightened her hold. “I’m glad. So where is he?”

“He’s having breakfast with Olivia. She’s going to drop him off after.”

“Will she be coming up? I’d like to say hello.”

“I didn’t know you knew her.”

Elizabeth played it cagey. “We’ve met several times over the years. She’s a fiercely intelligent woman.”

“Ma’am,” Nadine interjected, “Minister Chin has requested a few minutes of your time this morning.”

She repressed a groan. “In person?”

“Online.”

“Thank god,” Elizabeth muttered. She wasn’t in the mood to host that supercilious windbag.

 

* * *

 

Elizabeth looked up from her desk approximately two hours later, giving up the ghost on her paperwork. It was nothing that couldn’t wait and she was far more interested in meeting Kurt. She didn’t know why, precisely, but felt it would be very illuminating.

She also wanted to support Blake. She loved that kid like she would a little brother, but he guarded his privacy so much that, often, she felt as though she barely knew him. Her job – hell, her _life_ – was so dependent on him, yet she really knew almost nothing about him, other than what was in his file.

She saw Blake begin to smooth his hair before pressing his palms against the imaginary wrinkles of his suit. A quick check for halitosis later, Blake stood and began smoothly gliding toward the hall.

Elizabeth popped a breath mint, fluffed her hair, and gave chase. She was sure the others had noticed Blake’s movement and were in hot pursuit. She dashed down the hall and skidded to a stop next to Blake.

“Do I look all right?” she asked.

He raised an eyebrow. “You’re stunning even in sweatpants and a t-shirt.”

“I really don’t pay you enough.”

He grinned before turning his head sharply when the elevator doors opened.

Everyone held their breath as two gorgeously-shod right feet stepped out in unison. Olivia Pope and Kurt strutted out of the elevator in perfect sync. There really was no other word to describe their gait. Hips of lethal destruction rolled as if oiled as they stomped down the hallway as though it were a runway in Milan.

Their eyes were immediately drawn to Olivia, who was widely considered DC royalty, and rightfully so. Her visage was legendary, but Elizabeth had always been far more impressed by the woman’s keen mind. There was no political animal in Olivia’s league. Her intelligence was rivaled only by her shrewdness, which guaranteed she was almost always the brightest person in the room. This was a woman who had brought world leaders to their knees with nothing more than sweet words and daggers in her eyes.

Olivia was outfitted in an exquisite ivory wrap dress that highlighted her enviable figure. She hadn’t aged in the last decade. At her waist was a wide black patent leather belt with an enameled buckle. Her only concession to jewelry was a pair of Tahitian black pearl studs in her ears. She wore six-inch white Jimmy Choo pumps that simultaneously made Elizabeth jealous and her feet ache.

Nadine had to hold Daisy in place, lest the woman rush up to Olivia Pope and genuflect, swearing her fealty now and forevermore. A powerful, accomplished woman in her own right, Daisy was nevertheless in awe of those who had done so much and were so esteemed, particularly African-American women.

Matt and Jay sucked in breaths. Both were single at the moment and a goddess was standing before them. The Secretary was a classically beautiful woman and they had learned quickly that, beneath that face, was the brain of a scientist and the heart of a lion. They respected her and her husband too much to lust after her, but Olivia Pope was …

“Wow,” Matt murmured, wincing when Nadine kicked his ankle. “Did I say that out loud?”

Kurt soon attracted just as much attention. The physical resemblance between him and Blake announced itself at once. They had the same dark chestnut hair, styled in almost the exact manner. Both had flawless complexions, pronounced cheekbones, pouty lips, and lanky frames.

Kurt was dressed in a dark navy suit that was contoured to his body, showing off his ridiculously tiny waist and highlighting his strong legs. His shirt was a cornflower blue fitted Oxford, and he had chosen a crimson tie and matching handkerchief. He looked professional yet fashion-forward, and no doubt had attracted appreciative stares from both sexes during his trek through the building.

As one, Kurt and Olivia reached up and removed their sunglasses.

“My god,” Daisy whispered, staring at Kurt’s eyes. This kid was _gorgeous_.

“Uncle Blake!” Kurt squealed, throwing himself at the man.

Blake held himself stiffly for only a moment before fervently returning the embrace. The others, save Elizabeth, were startled by the overt display of emotion.

Blake quickly corralled himself and pulled back. “We saw each other only hours ago.”

Kurt pouted and then beamed. “We have a great deal of time to make up for.”

Blake smiled and dropped a kiss atop his nephew’s head. “How was breakfast?”

“It was terrific! Aunt Liv knows this amazing French bistro.”

Blake smiled and patted his shoulder. “It’s good to see you, Liv.”

The woman smiled and stood on her toes to kiss his cheek. “I’m sorry I had to miss dinner the night of Kurt’s arrival. You’re even more beautiful than I remember,” she said quietly. “I see so much of Suzanne when I look at you.”

Both their eyes filled, and Olivia turned and met Elizabeth’s gaze.

“Bess! You look wonderful!”

They shook hands. As powerful, respected women, they tended to avoid the social niceties often exchanged between women, such as kisses on cheeks, but the gesture was nevertheless warm and inviting.

“Not half as wonderful as you, but I appreciate the compliment.”

“The smartest thing Dalton has done during his first term was appointing you. You’ve been doing incredible work and I am honored that you are our Secretary of State.”

Elizabeth was caught aback and fought the blush rising high on her cheeks. “Coming from you, that means something. Thank you, Olivia. The truth of the matter is that I’d be lost without my staff.”

She proceeded to offer their names and titles. Kurt and Olivia smiled and offered their greetings.

“It’s nice to meet all of you,” Kurt said kindly. “Uncle Blake has told me nothing about you.”

“Nothing?” Elizabeth asked.

“He’s very protective of all of you and Uncle Blake has never been one for gossip, though he has always excelled at procuring information. The most he’s told me is that he can’t imagine working for anyone but you, Madam Secretary. He’s also told me how beautiful and intelligent Daisy is and, if anything, I think he undersold it.”

Daisy, charmed, sidled up next to him. “We’re all so glad that you’re here. Blake has been looking forward to this for weeks, and I’m beginning to understand why you’re so special to him.”

Kurt flushed spectacularly and Daisy wanted to pinch his cheek and coo.

“What he has said about me?” asked an eager Matt.

“That truly great speechwriters, such as yourself, are the unsung poets of their generation.”

Matt threw himself at Blake, who was completely bewildered and not a little frightened.

“I’m uncomfortable,” the man said.

Matt pulled back and straightened his jacket.

“Uncle Blake has also said that Ms. Tolliver is the glue that keeps the State Department running and everyone would be hopelessly lost without her, and that Mr. Whitman has an enviable intellect and truly fabulous hair. I concur, by the way, about the hair.”

Jay chuckled but was pleased. He often got the sense that Blake didn’t like him. In fact, it seemed as though Blake liked no one but the Secretary and Nadine. He was happy to be held in high regard.

“It’s so lovely to have you here, Kurt, and we all look forward to getting to know you better,” Elizabeth said warmly.

Olivia smirked. “Would you be interested in a little game, Bess?”

Kurt’s eyes widened and he began shaking his head.

Intrigued, Elizabeth instantly agreed.

Olivia’s smirk widened as she turned to Kurt. “Do it.”

“Aunt Liv, I don’t think that’s a good idea! I don’t know them.”

“What’s going on?” Blake asked.

“Kurt is perhaps the most observant person I’ve ever met, and considering who’s in my cell phone, that’s saying something. I can say with certainty that he’s already drawn a number of conclusions about your colleagues, Blake. After all, he’s been trained by the best.”

“Trained?” asked a curious Elizabeth.

Olivia grinned. “You remember Brenda Johnson, don’t you, Bess? You were at the CIA together.”

Elizabeth’s eyes widened to the size of saucers. “Isn’t Brenda with the LAPD now?”

Kurt shook his head. “Aunt Brenda left Major Crimes a few years back and transferred to the District Attorney’s Office, where she’s Chief of Investigations.”

“ _Aunt_ Brenda?” Elizabeth repeated, before turning toward Blake. “It appears you left a few names off the family tree.”

“I’m not related to Brenda,” Blake calmly said. “She’s the cousin of Congressman Hummel.”

“ _Congressman?_ ”

Blake winced. “Did I forget to tell you Kurt is the Congressman’s son?”

Everyone save Olivia stared at him, and then at Kurt, who became extremely shy and hid behind his godmother.

“I’d be very interested in your observations, Kurt,” Nadine said.

Kurt bit his lip. “Are you sure?”

She nodded.

“The real stuff,” Olivia said, “not what anyone could cull from a Wikipedia article.”

Kurt glared at her and huffed, but nodded. He turned and stood before Nadine, scrutinizing her for a long moment.

She didn’t feel any judgment, more like she was being critically assessed. She also wasn’t lying. She was very interested in what he observed about her and the others.

“You’re elegant and sophisticated,” Kurt said, “but your true nature is much more romantic than your wardrobe suggests. You prefer silk and cotton, only natural fibers. You enjoy the feel of them against your skin and are offended by polyester and satin. You keep your hair short because it’s professional and efficient, but you want to grow it long and feel the wind whispering through it.”

Nadine blinked.

“You’re a great lover of art, but prefer Renaissance pieces in all of their grandeur. You’ve always wished you had the talent for painting. You enjoy architecture and design, leaning toward Greek Revival and the neoclassical. Your favorite city is … Venice, followed by Lisbon. You wear sedate colors, but your favorite is red.”

She nodded.

“You’re a very sensual woman. You have a refined palate and are a gourmet chef. You’re a connoisseur of fine wine and spirits. You love a rich, decadent cheese, the stinkier the better. You have a dancer’s body. I’m guessing ballet and tap, along with modern jazz. There’s nothing you love more than singing. You love classical music and opera, but also female singer-songwriters of the seventies. I’m betting Joni Mitchell and Carly Simon.”

“I heard you’re a singer yourself,” Nadine said, her face blossoming into a smile.

Kurt released an audible breath, grateful he hadn’t offended her. “I enjoy singing very much,” he said quietly.

She slowly cocked her head. “Everything you’ve said was only the tip of the iceberg, wasn’t it? Don’t hold back. Tell me all of it.”

He gathered another breath. “You think of Uncle Blake as a son. You worry about him more than you do the others, but you shouldn’t. Uncle Blake will find the right partner when he’s ready, but it’s not that time yet. Even if he never found that person, however, he would be fine. He doesn’t need anyone to validate him. He’s living his dream of public service, working for a woman he admires and respects more this own mother.

“Incidentally, he’s just as enamored of you. He’s still intimidated by the Secretary, but only because of her position, not her as a person. You are the one he trusts most. You are the one who inspires him. You are the one he seeks to make proud. You would take a bullet for him, but what you might not know is he would do the same for you without question.”

Blake ducked his head and stared at the ground, pointedly ignoring the gazes of both women, which were just a bit misty.

“You respect Daisy. You respect her ambition, her intelligence, and her capability. It’s difficult for you to draw the line between mentor and friend, but you do consider her a friend, a dear one. You know that she’s destined for greater things and you want to help her achieve them, but you also want her here with you for as long as possible.

“You’re a true feminist who honestly believes that women should hold each other up and not tear each other down. Even if you don’t agree with all of Daisy’s opinions, you respect them and believe them to be valid because they’re hers.”

He blushed again. “I think that’s enough. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry,” Nadine whispered. “That was incredible. _You_ are incredible. I’ve met the most skilled agents from every intelligence agency the world over, and none of them, even at the height of their careers, were as good as you are now.

“I don’t care what your aunt taught you, because this isn’t something that can be taught. It’s a gift, and while Ms. Johnson might have helped you refine it, there would have been nothing she could do if the potential wasn’t present. Well done.”

His blush deepened and he pulled back, this time hiding behind Blake, who was shocked into silence.

“Damn,” Daisy muttered. “I mean, _damn_. No offense, but I don’t think I’ll be signing up for that. It was a little too real and I’m just not ready.”

Matt and Jay nodded dumbly.

“Your skill is remarkable, Kurt,” Elizabeth said. “I know Brenda, I’ve worked with Brenda, and as good she is – and she’s incredible – she’s not in your league. May I ask why you’ve chosen medicine, specifically pathology, instead of one of the social sciences?”

Kurt peeked around Blake and frowned. “Most of my family thinks it’s because of Aunt Cam and Aunt Megan. Perhaps that’s true, at least in part. Science fascinates me. It’s … it’s gorgeous, really, because it evolves constantly. It seeks to describe the world, its rules, and our place within it, but with each new discovery comes the knowledge that we really don’t know anything at all. Perhaps we aren’t meant to.

“I’m an atheist. I don’t believe in god, but I do believe that Nature is a mystery worth contemplating and that, the more we come to understand it, even in only small increments, the more we come to understand ourselves.”

They stared at him.

“As for forensic pathology, the work is important. It’s _vital_. So many think what Aunt Cam and Aunt Megan do is morbid, or reserved for those physicians unable to deal with living patients, but they couldn’t be more wrong. They give their patients, and their families, closure. They speak for those who can’t speak for themselves. They fight for justice for the innocent. It’s a noble calling, and one which I’m proud to answer.”

Olivia’s eyes spilled over and she seized him in a hug. “I love you _so much_ , Little Man.”

He kissed her cheek. “I love you, too.”

She pulled back and smoothed his hair. “I have to go. Remember, you’re having dinner with me and Uncle Fitz on Friday night.”

He nodded.

“You’ll be here with Blake for the week?”

“Except for tomorrow,” Kurt said. “I’m spending the day at Aunt Mellie’s office.”

Olivia let that pass without comment, but nodded her understanding. She couldn’t say she liked the close relationship between her godson and Mellie Grant, but she knew Mellie loved Kurt dearly and would happily crucify anyone who made him frown.

She thrust a finger against Blake’s chest. “I know you will, but I have to say it anyway. Take care of him.” She then turned to Elizabeth. “Lunch soon, Bess?”

Elizabeth smiled. “I’d be delighted. Let me know when you’re free.”

Olivia nodded and reached into her bag, withdrawing a business card which she passed to Daisy. “Strong black women with strong opinions should stick together, particularly in this town. Call my office and let’s set up a dinner meeting for one night next week.”

Daisy took the card with a trembling hand and managed to nod.

Olivia leaned in, kissed Kurt’s cheek, and spun on her heel, prowling toward the elevator.

“That woman is terrifying,” Jay said.

Kurt beamed. “I know! Isn’t she awesome?”


	2. The American Rome

The morning meeting and Daisy’s press conference had occurred prior to Kurt’s arrival. After Blake had settled in at his desk and began collating the day’s agenda, Elizabeth realized Kurt was left at loose ends.

“Oh, don’t mind me,” the boy said graciously. “I brought books to read and have lots of emails and texts to return. I’m just happy to be here with Uncle Blake.”

Blake melted into a fastidious puddle of goo.

“That’s all well and good,” Elizabeth said, “but you’re at the State Department and I have no pressing issues, so why don’t we go around to the various departments and meet some people?”

Kurt raised a brow. “Are you trying to recruit me?”

She grinned. “Blake said it was a lost cause, but a girl has to try.” She shrugged. “Besides, it’s very important for me to check-in with my staff and get to know them as actual people. I don’t want to be one of those government officials in an ivory tower.”

“I think that’s commendable. It sounds like fun.”

Elizabeth knew Kurt wasn’t giving her lip service and appreciated it. She found him endlessly fascinating, and not only because he presented as more mature than her eldest daughter, who was a few years older than Kurt.

He was not only intelligent but an intellectual, and she couldn’t help but wonder what it would be like to witness a conversation between Kurt and her husband, Henry. She rather thought Henry would fall in love with Kurt’s mind instantly and want to keep him forever. Kurt also had a great deal of common sense, which was something she found sorely lacking in most of his generation. She didn’t like to stereotype, but acknowledged they existed for a reason.

He was also very kind. She had the sense that he most often came across as aloof and rather cold, but when he loved, he did so without restraint. It was obvious he adored Blake and worshiped Olivia. Given what Elizabeth remembered of Brenda, and considering the amount of time Kurt had spent in her company, it was obvious they loved each other dearly. Brenda didn’t suffer fools gladly, or at all. That she had invested so much time in Kurt, family relationship aside, could only mean she felt it worth the effort.

She wanted to ask about his father, for the man’s reputation preceded itself because his politics were so convoluted. He had run and was elected as a Democrat and indeed championed many liberal issues, particularly gay marriage, gender equality, and arts education in public schools.

However, he was also very conservative on some stances. He was vociferously pro-gun and defended the Second Amendment at every turn. She had heard the NRA was endlessly frustrated with Congressman Hummel because he refused to lend them his name or endorse them in any shape or form.

Indeed, he refused to see lobbyists and was unaligned with any special interest. He was pro-defense and pro-military, but also believed in national healthcare. He was pro-manufacturing but pro-environment.

He was regarded as a true enigma in DC. Burt Hummel always tried to represent his constituents to the best of his ability, but he voted his conscience. He was considered a unicorn: that rare politician who was _honest_.

She guided Kurt from an anxious Blake and toward the elevator.

“I’m curious as to your politics.”

Kurt offered a half-smile. “Many people are. Dad is already fielding questions about me because I’ll be able to vote in the next election cycle. I don’t identify with any political party. If I had to choose, I suppose I would go with libertarian, but that’s still not quite the right fit.

“Honestly, I’m mostly apolitical like Aunt Liv. There are some causes I believe in and will defend to my dying breath, but I don’t believe these parties serve a purpose anymore. If you ask Middle America, which, as you know, I’m from, they’ll tell you they don’t believe either Democrats or Republicans have their best interests at heart.

“Most people vote the party of their parents after a brief youthful rebellion, and those same parents have stuck with the party of their parents, and so on.”

She agreed and said as much. “So what’s the solution?”

“Term limits for every political office.”

She blinked. It was an idea that had merit, but she doubted it could ever be actualized.

“I know,” he replied, “and it’s a shame.”

 

* * *

  

Kurt and Elizabeth spent the next two hours trolling the various halls of the State Department.

Most of the employees fawned over their Secretary and it was apparent to Kurt how much she disliked it. He very much enjoyed how down-to-earth and approachable Elizabeth was, as well as how knowledgeable. She might not have known every name, but she knew the departments, the key players, and almost everything they did in the name of the government.

This was a woman he would gladly vote for as President, though he doubted she would ever run.

For his part, Kurt shook every hand offered and looked directly into the eyes of those to whom he was introduced. He asked cogent questions about their positions and areas of expertise, and then further questions when they dovetailed with his own personal knowledge. If there were pictures of children or families on desks, he asked after them.

Those who met Kurt that day were very pleased to have done so. When they later learned he was Blake Moran’s nephew, they weren’t surprised.

Kurt spent the most time in the translation department, fascinated by the work being done. He and Elizabeth were shepherded around by Patricia Barker, the bureau chief.

“I know the Secretary is fluent in French, German, Arabic, and Persian. Do you enjoy languages, Kurt?”

He smiled. “I do. I seem to have a facility with them and am fluent in several.”

She arched a brow in interest. “That’s wonderful. So many decide not to progress beyond what is required during their schooling. May I ask which languages you know?”

He nodded. “I’m fluent in English, of course, as well as French, German, Italian, Spanish, Czech, and Russian.”

Patricia stared. So did Elizabeth.

“I’m at an intermediate level with Portuguese, Mandarin, Korean, and Hebrew. I also read and write Latin and Ancient Greek, including the Attic and Homeric dialects.”

“Wow,” Elizabeth muttered.

“So you must be at least familiar with modern Greek,” Patricia surmised.

“Familiar yes, but not confident,” Kurt admitted. “One branch of the family is Greek, so I really should endeavor to study it more closely.”

“That’s outstanding!” Patricia crowed, almost drooling while envisioning how she could convince him to consider a career in diplomatic service. There must be money somewhere for a paid internship. “How did you learn so many?”

Kurt blushed and shrugged a shoulder. “I’m very fortunate that most of my friends and family are multilingual, so I’ve been practicing for as long as I can remember. My mother was a French national, so she taught me French and English at the same time. My father is of German descent, took four years of high-school German, and has worked to stay fluent. My Aunt Brenda was CIA, and she taught me Russian and Czech.

“I enjoy fashion, so I learned Italian on my own; it wasn’t terribly difficult after French. My best friend, Santana, is Latina, so I learned Spanish from her while I taught her French. I picked up Portuguese soon after. My oldest friends, Tina and Artie, are fluent in Korean and Hebrew, respectively. Tina is adopted, but her parents wanted her to learn the language of her birth country and I learned with her. When Artie was taking bar mitzvah classes, I went with him.

“And my friend Mike is first-generation Chinese-American. I find Mandarin to be the most problematic language I’ve attempted. Though it’s tonal like Korean, for some reason I’m unable to grasp it as easily.”

Patricia was floored. “Are there other languages you wish to pursue?”

Kurt brightened. “Oh, yes! I’d love to learn Hindi and Urdu, and perhaps one of the Scandinavian languages.”

She smiled. “I presume you enjoy travel?”

“Very much!” he enthused. “Every summer since my mother’s death, I’ve spent traveling with my grandmother across Europe. We always try to visit different countries each year, though it’s not always possible with her duties.”

“Duties?” Elizabeth asked.

“My grandmother is Katrine Valois, the _Duchesse d’Aquitaine_ and _Comtesse Delacroix_.”

Again, they stared.

“So you will inherit both titles?” Patricia asked.

He shook his head. “No, not necessarily. I will become the Duke of Aquitaine upon my twenty-fifth birthday, unless Katrine cedes the title to me earlier, which I’m hoping she won’t. The title is hers outright and passed to my mother, her only offspring. Katrine now holds it in trust for me. As for the Delacroix line, it’s determined strictly by primogeniture, and was thus passed to Uncle Blake.”

“I’m sorry?” demanded a breathless Elizabeth. “Does he know?”

Kurt blinked. “Of course, but he hasn’t accepted it yet and allows Katrine to hold it for him. The rules are very archaic but absolute. Uncle Blake would at least need to establish residency in France and become a dual citizen. I don’t believe he’s very interested. If he chooses not to accept, then Katrine, as my grandfather’s widow, can decide who receives it. She offered it to Aunt Camille if Uncle Blake refuses, but Cam declined. Most likely it will go to me.”

He shrugged. “In all honesty, the titles mean nothing. They afford you no privileges in a modern democratic country. European tabloids love chasing after nobles, who are basically the reality stars of the Continent, but there’s no real benefit. I will accept them, but only because I’m very proud of my heritage. I’m a direct descendant of Eleanor of Aquitaine by way of Charlemagne.”

“Why wouldn’t Blake want the title?” Elizabeth asked.

Kurt fidgeted. “That’s something you should ask him, Madam Secretary. I wouldn’t feel comfortable speculating.”

Elizabeth nodded and sent a strong side-eye at Patricia, ensuring this tidbit wouldn’t be making the office gossip rounds.

Patricia nodded her understanding. The last thing she wanted to do was piss off Blake Moran, who literally controlled access to the Secretary. It was also obvious the Secretary adored Blake and was very fond of his young nephew. She was not about to put her entire career and pension in jeopardy because she couldn’t control her mouth.

 

* * *

 

 

As they dithered on their return trek to the seventh floor, Elizabeth delicately tried to worm as much information from Kurt as possible.

“Blake tells me that most of your family is in law enforcement?”

Kurt nodded. “You know about Aunt Brenda, of course, but most agencies are represented in one form another.”

She sensed Kurt was reluctant to elaborate and decided to back off. She had the feeling he wasn’t one to offer trust easily, and if it was abused, he would never again extend it. Hell, for all she knew, he was already an asset. She honestly would not have been surprised were that the case.

“You’re spending the day tomorrow with Senator Grant?”

He beamed. “Yes! I’m so excited! I haven’t seen Aunt Mellie in months and I really want to witness her in action. I love how passionate she is about her politics and her refusal to compromise her beliefs.”

“I was incredibly impressed, and grateful, for her filibuster on the part of Planned Parenthood,” Elizabeth said. “That took real guts. It couldn’t have been easy, standing against her own party like that.”

“I think that’s what I love about her the most,” Kurt admitted. He paused. “That isn’t to say I’m unaware of what goes on behind closed doors and the compromises all politicians have to make to get almost anything done, but when Aunt Mellie truly believes in something, she never backs down.”

“There’s been talk about nominating her for the Presidency if President Dalton doesn’t win a second term.”

“Aunt Mellie will be President one day,” he said with certainty. “Aunt Liv’s already offered to run the campaign.”

Elizabeth’s eyes flew wide with surprise. Given everything she had heard of the tangled relationship between Olivia, Mellie, and Fitzgerald Grant, that news was startling.

Kurt smiled. “It’s taken a long time for them to get there, but Aunt Liv and Aunt Mellie are on solid ground. That’s not to say they don’t have their very loud arguments, but they respect each other. Aunt Mellie knows that Aunt Liv was more than just a mistress, just as Aunt Liv understands Aunt Mellie was more than pedigreed eye candy.”

Elizabeth just shook her head.

“They’ve both realized Uncle Fitz was only elected because of them. Olivia is the best at what she does and, despite how the title of First Lady is often degraded, Aunt Mellie served with distinction.”

He sighed. “I love Uncle Fitz dearly, but indecisiveness is his worst trait. He’s an excellent leader and strategist, but his personal life has always been, well, let’s say choppy. He was a terrific President, but he only got that job because two of this world’s strongest women earned it for him.”

She grinned. “You don’t pull any punches, do you?”

He smirked. “I don’t believe in furthering the delusions of inferiors.”

“I like the hell out of you.”

He looped his arm through hers and smiled. “Likewise.”

 

* * *

 

 

The crew were stationed at the elevator, having received word Kurt and the Secretary were en route to the seventh floor.

They looked warily at each other when they heard raucous, shrieking laughter echoing up towards them. The elevator doors opened and they were confronted by a beet-red boy laughing so hard he couldn’t breathe, and a woman who was fourth in line for the Presidency and had tears rolling down her face as she giggled like a hyena.

They were regarded solemnly.

Once aware they had an audience, Kurt and Elizabeth instantly sobered and blinked back at them with the utmost innocence. Then Kurt said something _in French_ from the corner of his mouth and Elizabeth slid down the wall in hysterics.

Cackling, he helped her to her feet and they stumbled into the foyer, clutching each other to keep themselves upright.

Elizabeth wiped her eyes and looked at Blake. “Any urgent demands or nascent insurrections?”

Blake arched a brow. “Not to my knowledge, ma’am.”

For some unknown reason, that set off both Kurt and Elizabeth once more. She gasped until she caught her breath.

“Good,” she said smoothly. She then grabbed Blake by his lapels and pulled his head level with hers. “ _Feed me._ ”

“Lunch is in the conference room, ma’am,” Nadine said. “We ordered in Chinese.”

“Yay!” Kurt and Elizabeth exclaimed.

The others exchanged concerned glances.

“Low blood sugar is a thing,” Kurt insisted.

Elizabeth nodded with gravitas.

 

* * *

  

They gathered at one end of the conference table, engaging in pleasantries and small talk while consuming vast amounts of MSG.

No one was surprised by how well Kurt fit with them. Indeed, it almost seemed as if he had been there along. He discussed literature with Matt, fashion with Daisy, foreign policy with Jay, caught Blake up on some of the escapades of their family, and spoke with Elizabeth about his plans at GW.

They truly thought of him as a peer, not a child playing an adult.

Talk soon segued into personal relationships, with Elizabeth waxing poetic about Henry; Jay lamenting his looming divorce; Daisy’s difficulty in finding a man who not only understood the demands of her job, but was also a decent human being; and Matt whining about being single.

Nadine refrained from saying anything.

“I prefer _independently owned and operated_ ,” Kurt drawled, which set all of them to laughter.

“Do you have a boyfriend, Kurt?” Daisy asked, ignoring Blake’s tutting.

“No,” Kurt shyly admitted, ducking his head.

“Truly?” asked an astonished Nadine. “Surely someone as handsome and erudite as you so obviously are would have boys beating down the door!”

Blake smiled and gave her a look of approval. “Still, there’s nothing wrong with waiting for the right person.”

Nadine inclined her head in agreement.

“I did have someone once,” Kurt whispered.

“Rough breakup?” asked a sympathetic Jay.

Kurt swallowed heavily and looked up, eyes rimmed red and filled with tears. “He passed away.”

They were all horrified.

“What!” Blake exclaimed, throwing himself from his chair and kneeling before Kurt, taking his nephew’s hands in his own. “Oh, baby, what happened? Why didn’t you tell me?”

Kurt looked away. “We didn’t tell anyone, Uncle Blake. We were both so young. I was fourteen and he was sixteen. It was a long-distance relationship. And then … then, well …”

Blake pulled Kurt into his arms and rubbed soothing circles on his back.

The others looked at each other, unsure as to what to say or do. Elizabeth was devastated, Nadine was biting her lip and trying not to cry, Daisy was protectively clutching her stomach, and Matt and Jay looked inordinately sad.

“What was his name?” Blake quietly asked.

Kurt sighed. “Gerry,” he said brokenly. “Gerry Grant.”

Blake pulled back, eyes the size of moons. “President Fitzgerald’s son?”

Kurt nodded.

“I remember when that happened,” Daisy whispered, closing her eyes. “God, it was _terrible_. It was on live tele …”

Her face became stricken upon realizing Kurt had watched his boyfriend die on a prime-time news conference. She quickly excused herself and left the room.

“It was appalling, the way the media treated Senator Grant,” Nadine seethed, “as if she didn’t have right to mourn her own child.”

Elizabeth nodded. She and Henry had spent all night awake, watching their children sleep, terrified something might happen when they weren’t looking.

Nadine startled. “Not that you don’t have the right to mourn, Kurt! I never meant to imply …”

Kurt waved a hand and wiped his eyes with the others. “Please don’t feel guilty, Nadine. I loved Gerry with all of my heart, and I always will, but what I lost could never displace the agony the Grants experienced. Aunt Mellie was a zombie for months and Uncle Fitz began drinking as though it were a sport.”

“I was, and still am, very sorry for them, Kurt,” Blake said, “but all I’m worried about is _you_.”

“I’m okay, Uncle Blake. Really, I am. It’s been almost four years, and though I’ll always miss Gerry and wonder about what might have been, when I remember him now, it’s the good things, not the sad ones.”

“And you never told anyone?” Blake pressed. “Not even Burt?”

Kurt shook his head. “I hadn’t even come out to him yet. I mean, Dad knew, he had always _known_ , but I wasn’t in a place yet where I could admit it to him, and neither was Gerry.”

Blake nodded.

Kurt offered a half-smile. “We actually liked it that way, that no one knew, that it was a secret just between us. We knew what would happen when others found out. The media would have gone after Gerry and outed me in the process.

“Gerry was … very protective of me, and he was always a gentleman. Never had I felt so safe with someone, so loved in a way completely different from the way my parents loved me.”

“It’s awful,” Jay said. “I’m so sorry you had to go through that.”

Kurt cleared his throat. “Aunt Mellie discovered it after Gerry died. She found our letters while she was cleaning out his room. I was … relieved, frankly, that I had someone with whom I could mourn. There were entire days we spent on the phone each other. Sometimes we didn’t even talk; it was enough to know the other person was there.”

Elizabeth gasped and covered her face with her hand as she began crying softly.

“I just …” Kurt whispered, eyes once again filling. “I just never thought our first kiss would be our last.”

He began sobbing. “I’m sorry.”

“Oh, honey,” Elizabeth murmured, pulling him against her, “don’t you dare apologize. You have no reason to be sorry.”

He buried his face in her neck and continued to cry, her hair falling across both their faces like a veil.

A stalwart Nadine gathered the others, including a protesting Blake, and led them from the room.

 

* * *

 

“I’m so embarrassed,” Kurt groaned. “I’m mortified.”

“You have absolutely no reason to feel that way, Kurt,” Elizabeth insisted. “You kept your relationship between yourselves, which was, of course, your right, and though I’m sure you and Mellie were a godsend for each other, I doubt you had the chance to mourn Gerry properly.

“You were overdue for a breakdown, sweetie, and don’t let anyone tell you differently. Certainly no one here begrudges you or is passing judgment.”

She smoothed back his hair. “Sometimes, we just need to cry.”

“Thank you,” he whispered.

There was suddenly a knock at the door.

“Come in!” Elizabeth called.

A cautious Nadine opened the door and stood to the side, making room for Mellie Grant, who raced inside and captured Kurt in a tight embrace.

“Oh, my boy,” she murmured, kissing his forehead. “My dear, sweet boy.”

Elizabeth nodded at Nadine, who quietly exited.

“Thank you for calling me, Bess,” said a grateful Mellie.

Elizabeth nodded. “Of course. Take all the time you need. The room is yours.”

She crossed over and placed a hand on Kurt’s shoulder. “I can’t tell you how much I think of you. How awed I am by your strength and perseverance. Those are your true gifts, Kurt. Not your intellect, not your beauty, but your strength.”

Her grip tightened. “But no one can be strong all the time, Kurt, and no one should have to be.” She cleared her throat. “I want you and Blake to join me this evening for dinner at my home. I’d very much like you to meet my family. I already consider Blake a part of it, and there’s certainly room for you.”

“I’d like that,” Kurt whispered. “Thank you, Madam Secretary."

She gently stroked the apple of his cheek. “Call me Bess. Come to my office when you’re ready.”

Mellie gave her such a fierce look of admiration and gratitude, Elizabeth’s breath suddenly left her in a sharp exhalation. The women nodded at each other and Elizabeth slipped out of the room.


	3. Inside the Beltway

“You’re home early,” a surprised Henry said to his wife, meeting her at the door with a glass of wine and a deep kiss.

“Mmm,” Elizabeth purred. “My compliments on the excellent service.”

He offered a devilish grin and another kiss. “We value your patronage.”

“Gross,” their son Jason complained as he dashed down the stairs and scurried past them. “No one needs to see that!”

“How do you think you got here?” Henry called after him.

“I was hatched from an egg!”

“That explains why the delivery took forever,” Elizabeth murmured into Henry’s neck.

He laughed. “So why _are_ you home so early? That almost never happens.”

“It was a weird day. Light on work, heavy on emotion. Where are the girls?”

“Kitchen.”

“Teenagers. Of course.”

She sipped her wine, dropped her bag on the couch, and allowed her husband to pull her into the next room.

“Hi, Mom,” said a distracted Alison and Stevie, both consumed by their respective phones.

“Hey, guys. We’re having guests for dinner, so I’m asking – begging, _pleading_ – for you to be on your best behavior, okay?”

“Who’s coming?” Jason asked.

“Blake and his nephew.”

“Since when do we have to impress Blake?” Alison asked. “I mean, he’s seen me without makeup!”

“Then he’s practically family!” Elizabeth exclaimed.

“I know!”

Elizabeth chuckled. “His nephew is very important to him, and Blake is very important to me. They’re in the process of getting to know each other, and I’d like to help that process along.”

“Blake’s nephew is three,” Jason said flatly. “We could give him Cheerios for dinner and he’d be happy.”

Against her will, Alison guffawed.

Elizabeth sat down. “Not that nephew. Kurt is seventeen and living with Blake for part of the summer before he starts at GW.”

“Blake’s sister is younger than he is,” Stevie said, “so how is it possible his nephew is only ten years younger?”

“He has an older sister, duh,” Alison said.

“And that would be the answer,” Elizabeth said, nodding. “Well done, Columbo.”

“Who?”

She sighed. “Blake has two older sisters I only learned about today. Kurt is the son of his eldest sister, Suzanne.”

Finally engaged, the kids all turned to stare at her with looks ranging from mild shock to outright offense.

“That’s surprising,” said a diplomatic Stevie.

“Why didn’t he ever tell us?” Jason demanded.

“It’s like we don’t know him at all!” Alison agreed.

Henry rolled his eyes. “It’s not as though Blake owes you a dossier on his family.”

“But he’s _Blake_ ,” Jason whined. “He’s the person we go to when you guys aren’t around.”

Elizabeth and Henry stared at him, then at their daughters’ simultaneous nods, and then at each other.

“He is?” asked a dumbfounded Henry.

“He’s _Blake_ ,” Jason repeated.

Elizabeth bit her lip. “I guess I should just accept that Blake controls my entire life.”

“We all accepted that a while ago,” said a dismissive Alison.

“He’s pretty much the only adult we trust,” Stevie admitted.

“ _You’re_ an adult,” her father insisted.

“Take that back!”

“So what’s so special about this nephew?” barked a peeved Jason.

“You’re jealous!” said an incredulous Elizabeth after a moment.

“We all are,” Alison said, in a rare show of sisterly support. “We thought, well, _we_ were Blake’s family.” She blushed. “At least here in DC.”

“I’m sure he would agree with that,” said a soothing Henry. “Blake having another nephew takes nothing away from his relationships with you.”

Jason huffed.

“But it’s different now,” Alison said quietly.

“Only if we make it different,” Stevie said before turning toward her mother. “So, this nephew. Spill.”

“His name is Kurt. He’s seventeen and just graduated high school. As I said, he’s going to start GW in the fall and is staying with Blake for part of the summer. Next month, Kurt will move in with his aunt, Blake’s sister, Camille, before beginning an internship at the Jeffersonian.”

“Impressive,” Henry said.

“You don’t know the half of it,” Elizabeth said, explaining that Kurt would begin college as a sophomore.

“Big deal,” Jason said. “So he’s a geek who’s going to stand around a museum and show old dinosaur bones to tourists in flip-flops.”

Elizabeth raised a brow, annoyed by her son’s attitude. “Actually, he’ll be interning in the Medicolegal Division, of which is his aunt is Head. You’ve heard of Camille Saroyan, yes? Kurt plans to follow in her footsteps and become a forensic pathologist. He’s going to be assisting her.”

They stared.

She held up a hand. “Wait, there’s more! Kurt is fluent in seven languages, is competent in four others, and reads and writes two dead languages. He’s an accomplished singer and pianist, and has two national cheerleading titles under his belt.”

“A cheerleader?” Jason sneered.

“Wait, are you talking about _Kurt Hummel?_ ” Alison shrieked.

“Hummel?” Henry repeated. “As in Congressman Burt Hummel?”

Elizabeth nodded. “His son.” She looked at her daughter. “You’ve heard of him?”

“He captained the Cheerios!” she screeched. “The _Cheerios_.” She looked at each with jaws agape when they showed no recognition. “You … you philistines!”

“That was an oddly appropriate, yet withering comment,” said a pleased Henry.

“He sounds like a nerd,” Jason said.

Elizabeth narrowed her eyes. “I expect you to be on your best behavior, Jason, because that behavior will not only reflect on yourself, not only on me and your father, but also on Blake. Blake is extremely important to Kurt and I will be _very disappointed_ if you give either a cause to question how your parents raised you.”

Jason opened his mouth to protest.

“I’m not done,” his mother snapped. “My entire staff – by which I mean most of the building – met Kurt today and were utterly charmed. Nadine and Daisy adore him. Matt and Jay already consider him something akin to a little brother. Please, just once, _be nice_.”

Jason closed his mouth. As much of an anarchist as he liked to believe himself to be, he also knew there were consequences to embarrassing his mother. He knew his parents already let him get away with a lot more than they probably should have, instead encouraging him to discover the man he was becoming, and he didn’t want to push things too far.

 

* * *

 

Elizabeth had opted for a casual dinner. Kurt had already seen her in Secretary Mode and she therefore decided it was better, and easier, just to be herself. She threw open the front door dressed in worn jeans and one of Henry’s white Oxford shirts, ushering Blake and Kurt inside.

The first thing she noted was how odd it was to see Blake out of a suit. He was dressed in slim black slacks and a red V-neck cashmere sweater, the color of which gave his perfect skin a carnal glow. He looked terrific and showed no signs of wilt due to the muggy July weather.

She was disgusted.

“How are you not a puddle on the steaming sidewalk?” she demanded.

“Genetics,” he smoothly replied.

She glared and turned to Kurt, who appeared similarly flawless, but much less informal in a pair of dark-washed jeans and a saffron-colored polo, which brought out golden threads in his stunning eyes.

He beamed and held out a box, which she took with aplomb.

“This smells like I should eat it immediately,” she groaned, sniffing deeply.

“We brought dessert!” Kurt chirped. “Apple pie made from Virginia Honeycrisps.”

“My compliments to the chef,” Elizabeth cooed, peeking inside the box and savoring the aroma.

“Thank you,” Kurt said, nodding.

She looked up. “You made this?”

“Yes,” he said hesitantly.

“You can cook?”

“And bake. After Mom died, it was either learn to cook or rely on Dad for takeout. There’s only so many saturated fats my complexion can withstand.”

Elizabeth set her jaw. “You have never had a pimple in your life, have you?”

Kurt’s eyes widened and he stepped back, and then behind Blake.

Blake opened his mouth.

“I figured _you_ never had,” Elizabeth complained, rolling her eyes.

“Genetics,” they said.

She arched a brow and Blake immediately thrust out an arm, passing over a bottle of wine. Elizabeth grabbed it and peered down at the label, her eyes widening.

“It’s from Olivia,” said a nervous Blake.

She narrowed her eyes and considered them. “You’ve brought me pie and wine. This earns you immunity from prosecution. For now.”

 

* * *

 

Jason resented Kurt almost immediately. It wasn’t enough the dude was ridiculously good-looking; Blake was hot, so it figured a relative would also be hot. It wasn’t that Kurt was as connected as he was; Jason’s mother was the Secretary of State and, before he transferred to public school, almost everyone he knew his age was almost equally as privileged.

It wasn’t even his family’s reactions to the other boy, although those were certainly interesting.

Kurt had recognized Alison on sight from her YouTube makeup tutorials and proceeded to proclaim her brilliance, announcing one of her videos had finally given some friend named Tina the snatched eyebrows she deserved. Naturally Alison was elated and then gushed about the Cheerios and Kurt’s flexibility and vocal abilities.

Jason loved his sister and knew she was far more intelligent than she let on, but she was also shallow and petty, traits he often used against her in their arguments. She wasn’t that girl now, however. She and Kurt began an earnest discussion about the cult of beauty in America and how it was detrimentally affecting youth culture, particularly the objectification of both sexes and resultant eating disorders.

Never had their family heard Alison speak so passionately about something that wasn’t the latest MAC lip gloss or Jenner sighting. It was surprising, yet oddly illuminating.

Stevie, the sister with whom Jason had always had the most in common, was just as infatuated with Kurt. Stevie could be indecisive and flighty, but she was also the best mix of their parents when she was capable of focusing on something for more than five minutes. Jason wasn’t sure how the topic of Planned Parenthood came about, but Stevie launched into a blistering defense of the organization and all of the services they provided, which far outstripped the number of abortions they were alleged to perform.

“I still can’t believe Senator Grant actually filibustered on their behalf!” she exclaimed.

Kurt smiled. “Bess and I were just talking about that earlier today.”

The kids, and Blake, all stared at him for his use of Elizabeth’s nickname, which they subsequently realized was only ever used at her invitation.

Elizabeth wiped her mouth with her napkin and nodded, then mentioned Kurt’s idea about term limits and how much could be accomplished if politicians were forced to do their jobs rather than finagling for reelection. Kurt popped in and out of her comments and soon they were finishing each other’s sentences.

That was what Jason didn’t like. It wasn’t that Kurt got along well with his sisters. It wasn’t that he debated comparative religion – which was a _hobby_ – with his father, while subtly flirting with the man; nor was it that Henry flirted back with sparkling eyes and a devilish grin, all of which horrified Blake.

It was that this guy had obviously earned the respect and approval of his mom.

Jason wasn’t a fool. He knew the dynamics of his family. Stevie belonged to both their parents equally, which was often the case with firstborn children. Alison was Daddy’s Princess while Jason was Mama’s Little Boy; these were tropes which, phenomenonologically, tended to fall along gender lines.

Jason knew no matter what he and his sisters accomplished in their lives, their parents would always fundamentally see them as children, despite their intelligence and precociousness. Perhaps they would one day be friends, but they most likely would never be equals. Even the passage of years would not erase the inherent power differential.

Not so with Kurt.

Here was a kid who was only three years older than Jason, a year older than Alison, and a few years younger than Stevie, yet the elder McCords viewed him as a contemporary. When conversing with him, they spoke to him as they would any peer, silently conceding he had a legitimate point of view that not only deserved to be heard, but acknowledged.

They questioned him for the sake of clarification, not interrogation. They listened with looks of interest, not judgment. They didn’t question his knowledge or conviction. To Henry and Elizabeth McCord, Kurt Hummel was a young adult, not a kid.

Jason felt this was very unfair and he continued to stew throughout the meal, though he still listened. The more he did, the more he realized that Kurt perhaps deserved the respect extended to him.

It was obvious Kurt was extremely well-read, far beyond what Facebook clickbait insisted were the top two hundred books one simply _must_ read to be considered such. He argued his points like one would in an academic paper, including citing sources. Plato, Aristotle, Aquinas, and Kierkegaard were the only names with which Jason was even slightly familiar. His parents, of course, were well-versed and more than happy to expound on several points Kurt made.

Kurt was a true intellectual, the kind of person Jason usually eschewed as an overeducated upstart entombed by their own self-congratulatory rhetoric. But that wasn’t the case here. Kurt was sincerely engaged, speaking passionately but without the use of florid language.

He was also familiar with world affairs, a point on which Jason prided himself. Kurt was very informed, far more so than most people their age and two decades older, but he didn’t offer simplistic answers or self-righteous platitudes. He raised points that would have been considered inflammatory in any classroom or political forum, but were nonetheless interesting and well-reasoned.

Jason eventually, and silently, conceded there was more to Kurt Hummel than he had expected, and he suspected he hadn’t even scratched the surface.

Finally, Alison couldn’t stand it anymore. “You’re a Cheerio!”

Kurt blinked in surprise but nodded. “Once a Cheerio, always a Cheerio.”

“I’ve seen all the videos!” she gushed.

Kurt turned the color of rhubarb and ducked his head.

“Videos?” Blake asked.

Alison gaped at him. “Are you kidding? Kurt led his squad to his first national championship in his sophomore year.”

“I knew that,” Blake sniffed.

She smirked. “Did you know he did it while singing a fifteen minute Céline Dion medley? In _French?_ ”

“I did not know that,” Blake admitted before turning to his nephew. “Why didn’t I know that?”

Kurt fidgeted. “It’s not that big a deal.”

“You sing while the cheerleaders perform?” Elizabeth interrupted.

“No!” Alison shrieked. “He sings while performing himself! He sang the glory note of _It’s All Coming Back to Me Now_ in the middle of a full layout!”

Elizabeth stared. So did Henry.

Kurt offered a diffident shrug. “What Sue Sylvester wants, Sue Sylvester gets.”

Elizabeth raised a brow. Another name from her CIA days. How very interesting.

“I thought you’d never be able to top that,” Alison continued, “but your performance this year was _amazing._ ”

“It was much better,” he agreed, “because my friends were singing with me.”

Alison scoffed.

“We did a mashup of _O Fortuna_ , from _Carmina Burana_ , and _Tribal Dance._ ”

This time, everyone stared.

Kurt was saved by the ringing of his iPad, gratefully excusing himself from the table.

“Probably Olivia checking on him,” Blake said.

“Who?” Jason asked.

“His godmother.”

“Olivia Pope,” Elizabeth clarified.

Everyone else paused in their eating or drinking.

She smirked and nodded. “Yep.” Her smirk grew into a grin. “Did I tell you he’s spending the day tomorrow at his Aunt Mellie’s office?” Her head swerved toward Stevie. “Senator Mellie Grant.”

Stevie’s mouth fell open.

“Does he know President Fitzgerald?” Henry asked.

“You mean his Uncle Fitz? Yes, I would say he knows him.”

“Damn,” Stevie murmured. “The Grants, Camille Saroyan, and Olivia Pope? Is there anyone else?”

Blake turned shifty. “Probably.”

Elizabeth narrowed her eyes. “In addition to Brenda?”

Blake sipped his water and nodded.

Kurt returned and the discussion was tabled.

“Everything okay?” Blake quietly asked.

Kurt smiled and gave a quick nod. “Sorry for the interruption,” he said to the others, before turning back to his uncle. “A friend invited me to spend a week in London, and I was trying to reconcile my schedule between the internship and when school starts. I think I can make it work.”

“I love London,” said a wistful Bess.

“I’ve never spent any real time there,” Kurt said. “It’s always been a stopover when I visit my grandmother. I think I’d enjoy a real visit.”

“I’ll make a list of everywhere you _have_ to go.”

Kurt grinned and nodded.

“Who’s in London?” asked a curious Blake. “Tommy?”

“If I go, I’ll try and see him while I’m there, of course,” Kurt said, “but, like I said, a friend invited me.”

Blake frowned. “Kurt, I don’t think …”

Kurt’s lips thinned. “Uncle Blake, I’ll be eighteen. I can decide for myself who I wish to visit.”

“I’m just worried,” Blake murmured.

“And I appreciate that, but I do know how to handle myself.”

Blake pursed his lips and said nothing more. He knew he was having difficulty accepting that Kurt was on the cusp of adulthood and didn’t wish to alienate his nephew.

“Who’s Tommy?” Elizabeth chirped, trying to smooth things over.

“Our cousin, Tommy Lynley,” Kurt said. “He’s a Detective Inspector with Scotland Yard. None of us gets to see him very often, and I’m hoping to remedy that.”

Stevie smirked. “So who invited you? Some dashing cutie with an adorable accent?”

Kurt’s eyes widened before he flushed and looked away.

Alison squealed and applauded.

Jason couldn’t deny he was curious about what kind of guy attracted Kurt’s attention. He had gay friends at school, but, like his straight friends and himself, dating was a more theoretical possibility than a concrete reality.

Kurt rolled his eyes. “ _Her_ name is Taylor.”

“Oh,” said a gusty Stevie, the wind leaving her sails.

Alison snickered. “So who is she? Taylor Swift?”

Kurt blinked. “Oh, you know her, too? She never said.”

Alison’s mouth fell open as she stared. “That was a joke guess!”

“Oh,” Kurt said much more slowly. “Well, this is awkward.”

Blake’s fanboy heart was thumping loudly in his chest. “You _know_ her?”

Kurt frowned. “I’ve told you all about her!” he huffed.

“Not her _last name!_ ”

Kurt bit his lip and thought back on their conversations. “Oh, I guess not. I’m sorry.”

“I’m sure you probably know people from all walks of life,” said a soothing Elizabeth.

“Actually, it was all a big coincidence. Taylor and I met through Tumblr.”

Jason reared back. “What?”

“Well, I don’t know if you follow her career, but Taylor likes to stalk her fans’ social media. One of my best friends, Brittany, is actually her cousin. They’re not terribly close, so I never made the connection when Brittany would talk about her. Anyway, Brittany, me, and another friend named Tina, started a little group within our glee club. We did covers of a few of Taylor’s songs, recorded it to look back in five years and laugh, and Brittany posted it to her Tumblr.”

He shook his head. “No one was more surprised than me when the phone rang one night and Dad said _Taylor Swift_ was on the line for me. He didn’t even know who she was.”

“Really?” Henry asked. “Even I know who Taylor Swift is. Doesn’t everybody?”

“Dad doesn’t listen to music produced beyond the 1980s.” Kurt shrugged. “Anyway, Taylor loved the video and liked the new arrangements I had written for some of her songs. Plus, she’s kind of a fan of my dad. She really appreciates how he champions arts in public schools. She flew Brittany, Tina, and me out for one of her concerts in New York and we became friends.”

“What’s she like?” Alison demanded.

“Very smart,” Kurt said after a beat. “Much smarter than people give her credit for being. She’s also incredibly talented. She’s always writing music. There are so many amazing songs that never make it on her albums. She’s actually a very nice person. She’s in London working on her new album and wants me to visit. Tina and Brittany already agreed.”

“So you’re going?” Blake asked.

“I don’t know,” Kurt said. “It really depends on what Aunt Cam will have me doing next month. Plus, I still have to look for an apartment. Dad’s worried about me staying on campus because of the security issues. Both Aunt Cam and Aunt Liv want me to live with them, but I think I’m ready to be on my own.”

Blake nodded, resisting the urge to offer his own apartment. It was barely large enough for himself, and he wanted Kurt to have a life and a place of his own, not just somewhere where he slept in between classes.

“Why is security a problem?” asked a confused Jason.

Kurt’s eyes dimmed and he stared down at the table. “Dad gets a lot of letters … about me, I mean. Because I’m openly gay. Not everyone is … happy … that I’m not as ashamed about it as they feel I should be.”

Stevie’s eyes narrowed as Elizabeth scowled. Alison was horrified while Blake was just sad for his sweet nephew. Jason and Henry were disgusted.

“I hope you don’t let those assholes get to you,” Jason spat.

Kurt chuckled darkly. “It’s nothing I haven’t already experienced. When you’re thrown in the school dumpster every day for more years than you can count, just for existing, you kind of get used to the fact that not everyone is going to like you.”

Blake flushed with anger as his eyes filled with tears.

“Hey,” Kurt said quietly, placing his hand on his uncle’s arm, “I’m okay, Uncle Blake. I got through it.”

Blake shook his head as he fought for words. “You shouldn’t have to get used to something like that,” he said, voice fraught with tension.

“High school isn’t for the squeamish,” Kurt said lightly. “Everyone goes through something. The important thing is that it’s over.”

“ _Kurt_ …” Blake roughly began.

“Stop,” Kurt whispered. “It wasn’t just me, Uncle Blake. Mercedes and Matt got bullied for being black; Mike and Tina for being Asian; Santana for being Latina; Quinn for being a teenage mother; Puck and Rachel for being Jewish; Artie for being Jewish _and_ in a wheelchair; Sam for being poor; Finn for being … not an intellectual.

“It’s all fine and well to talk about how things _should_ be, but you can’t do that at the expense of how things actually _are_. No, it wasn’t nice. No, it wasn’t fair. But it happened and it’s done. Wallowing in it doesn’t help me or anyone else. They say it gets better and I choose to believe that. Otherwise, what the hell is the point of living?”

For the next several years, as Jason struggled to move past his parents’ legacies and out from under his sisters’ shadows, he would remember this moment and give thanks he’d never have to be as strong as Kurt Hummel was every goddamn day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, Kurt knows Taylor Swift, just because I like the idea of it. I'm a Swiftie; no apologies. This will probably be as close as I ever get to RPF.


	4. Profile of a Family

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As previously stated, this story takes place in my Uber-cousins!verse, in which Kurt has a large, extended family, most of whom are in law enforcement.
> 
> While the stories in this verse are loosely connected, they're not directly related, due to their subgenres. It's all but impossible to reconcile verses that include magic, paranormal powers, superheroes, aliens, etc., when they don't bleed over into each other. 
> 
> Thus, I doubt I could ever write one coherent story that includes all of the family, though it has been requested several times. I just don't think it's feasible. Not to mention that Kurt has different abilities in different verses. In some, he is magical. In others, he's psychic. In some, his mother is Wonder Woman; in others, she is Anna Devane.
> 
> What I am aiming to do with this story, is combine the more neutral relatives into one. I haven't yet decided whether or not Kurt is supernatural in this verse, but I'm leaving it open by including those relatives who have a supernatural bent.
> 
> In this chapter, I expand upon these relatives more than I have with any other story. I think it works, or I hope it does. I'll include a list of these characters and their fandoms in an end-note. Enjoy!

Mellie knocked on the door of Olivia’s apartment, patiently waiting entrance, surprised when it was her ex-husband who admitted her. She had long ago accepted that Liv and Fitz were destined for each other, but when they were finally free to be together, things hadn’t worked out exactly as Fitz expected.

First, Olivia had refused to marry him. She had reached that point in her life where she felt no desire to wed for the sake of it. Fitz was, of course, devastated, but after his cajoling had left Liv unmoved, he accepted it.

Then she refused to live with him. She not only wanted but craved her own space. She didn’t have a problem with Fitz sleeping over, but she would never allow him to move in.

Olivia had admitted to Mellie that while she loved Fitz deeply, there were moments she didn’t like him. After everything her father had done to all of three of them, and then what happened with Jake, there were periods in her life where she required isolation, knowing she could close her door on the world and everyone in it.

Mellie not only understood but respected Olivia’s position, taking up her banner and arguing it with Fitz on Olivia’s behalf. She had won by proclaiming Fitz finally had the woman he wanted, so why was he going to blow it all to hell because she wouldn’t let him keep a toothbrush in her bathroom?

She knew Fitz was presently pressuring Olivia to have a child and she wondered if that would be the straw that broke the camel’s back. Mellie was the only person Liv had told about her abortion, confessing she not only was unready to be a mother, but truly had no interest. Given who her parents were and everything they had done, Mellie understood.

“Hello, Mellie,” Fitz said with surprise but warmth. “Did we have a meeting?”

Mellie rolled her eyes, thinking the man ridiculous for believing everything she did still revolved around him. Somehow Fitz had missed the memo that she and Olivia were now actual friends, though that term had connotations which didn’t necessarily apply to their strange relationship.

In fact, there was no word to describe it. They had hated each other for years, but there had always been an undercurrent of respect and even admiration. Even at their cattiest, they could always, and often only, rely on each other for complete honesty.

No, they weren’t friends. They were _more_.

“I’m here to see Liv,” Mellie said, pushing him aside.

“Hey,” Olivia said, greeting her friend, tilting her head and narrowing her eyes. “What’s wrong?”

“Do you want something to drink?” Fitz asked. “We have leftover wine.”

Mellie gave him an incredulous look. “What the hell is leftover wine?”

“Something that doesn’t exist,” Olivia said, shaking her head, and pouring what remained of the bottle into a glass, which she held out to Mellie.

She took it gracefully and slurped it with absolutely no grace. Once it was gone, she nodded and held it out, a silent demand for a refill.

Olivia arched a brow, but shrugged, took the glass, and went to open another bottle.

This was perhaps the thing Mellie loved most about Olivia Pope. She not only had excellent taste in wine and spirits, but wasn’t stingy with them.

“Have you talked to Kurt?” she asked quietly.

Olivia pulled the cork from the bottle and stared at her. “No,” she said slowly. “Why? Did something happen? Where is he?”

“Is Kurt all right?” Fitz asked, now concerned.

“Something happened, yes,” Mellie said, “but he’s handled it. Right now, he and Blake are having dinner with Bess at her house.”

“Bess who?”

“Elizabeth McCord.”

“The Secretary of State?” Fitz paused. “Right! Blake’s her secretary.”

Mellie narrowed her eyes. “He’s her administrative assistant, which basically means he runs the State Department. He does so admirably, and with great hair and killer suits.”

Olivia smirked, filled the glass to the brim, and slid it across the counter.

Mellie took it and met Olivia’s eyes. “Kurt told Blake. Bess and her staff, too.”

Olivia’s eyes widened and then filled with tears. “Oh,” she whispered.

Mellie closed her eyes and sighed. “He had a bit of a breakdown. Bess called me at the Capitol and I went over.”

Olivia swallowed hard and placed her hand over Mellie’s own. “Thank you,” she whispered, voice filled with gratitude and appreciation.

Mellie softened. “I love him, Liv. I’ll always be there when he needs me.”

Olivia bit her lip and nodded. “But he’s okay now? Should I check in?”

Mellie inhaled. “I think it’s best to let it lie for a while.”

Olivia nodded and poured herself another glass.

“What the hell is going on?” Fitz demanded. “Is Kurty okay or not?”

Olivia and Mellie exchanged a long, measured look.

“What is you both know that I don’t?”

“We should probably tell him,” Olivia said.

“Are you sure?” Mellie asked carefully. “Shouldn’t we ask Kurt first?”

“I think he’ll be okay with it,” Olivia said, after a beat. “I actually think he’d prefer if we did it.”

“Fine, but if Kurt gets angry, I’m blaming you.”

“That’s fair.”

Mellie pushed Fitz toward the armchair while Olivia fixed him a scotch. “Sit down.”

“I’m not going to like this, am I?” asked a worried Fitz.

“I don’t know how you’re going to feel about this,” Mellie said baldly, “which is why Liv and I never told you.”

“And because it wasn’t our place,” Liv chimed in, dropping onto the sofa next to Mellie, who nodded and gathered a breath.

“You’ve often asked why Kurt doesn’t have a boyfriend.”

Fitz gave a hesitant nod. “Well, sure. I mean, the kid is gorgeous, smarter than almost everyone we know, and is a genuinely kind person. A boy couldn’t do better than Kurt.”

“There’s a reason,” said a sedate Olivia, “and it’s more than just because of where he grew up or the fact that he’s shy and reserved. He did have a boyfriend once.”

Fitz furrowed his brow before anger filled his eyes. “Did this boyfriend hurt him? Is that what this is about? Name, Liv. I want his name and address.”

“Simmer down, Thor,” Mellie drawled. “It’s nothing like that.”

She opened and closed her mouth several times, but found herself unable to say the words.

Olivia took Mellie’s hand in hers and looked at Fitz. “It was Gerry.”

Fitz stared at her for what felt like minutes before turning toward Mellie. “O-Our Gerry?”

She nodded.

“Gerry was gay?”

She sighed. “I don’t know, Fitz. He was only sixteen. Kurt was fourteen. I don’t think we need to waste time qualifying it, do you? Does it even matter?”

“I suppose not,” Fitz said, frowning. His mind looked backward to that awful time, one he refused to revisit and came to him only in haunting dreams. A time he had spent thousands of dollars in liquor to try and forget.

“He rushed to DC,” he whispered. “Flew into National, ran from the subway to the White House. He never left our side those first weeks. He took care of Teddy. He stayed with Karen in her bed and held her through her nightmares. He cooked for you, kept me from drinking.”

He shook his head. “When he left after the funeral, when the shock had finally worn off and the reality set in, that’s when we fell apart.”

“I know,” Mellie whispered.

His eyes watered. “And all of that time, he never told us. He kept it inside. He took care of us and we let him. He was _fourteen_.” He closed his eyes and ducked his head. “How long?”

“I only know because I found his letters when I was clearing out Gerry’s room.”

“Not that. I’m not mad at you, Mellie. We’ve always kept secrets from each other, for better or worse, and I understand why you kept this one. You were protecting the boys because you weren’t sure how I’d react. Given how I acted after Gerry died, I don’t blame you.”

She swallowed and looked away.

“How long were Gerry and Kurt together?”

She blew out a breath. “About seven months.”

“Which is a long time, considering their ages and the distance between them,” he said thoughtfully. “They were each other’s first loves.”

She nodded.

“They were _children_ ,” he muttered, looking at Olivia. “Gerry shouldn’t have died. Kurt’s first experience with love shouldn’t have ended like that. It’s … it’s just awful. That’s why he doesn’t date? Because of what happened to Gerry?”

“I don’t know,” she admitted. “Kurt has never spoken with me about this. I know only because Mellie thought I should. Kurt’s only ever discussed Gerry with her, and now, apparently Bess McCord.”

“Why her?” Fitz wondered, honestly curious.

Olivia tilted her head. “Bess is a lovely person who easily inspires trust. She’s also very strong, which comes across immediately. Why her? I don’t know. There are probably a lot of reasons. Blake reveres Bess, and Kurt respects his uncle’s opinions. Perhaps because Kurt has grown up surrounded by many strong women; me, Camille, Brenda, our other cousins.”

She nodded to herself. “And I don’t just include relatives in that. His cheerleading coach, Sue Sylvester, is arguably a contemptible person, but she truly cares for him. Kurt has known Mellie for years, and while he addresses her as an aunt for the sake of propriety, they’ve always thought of one another more as friends than anything else.”

“That’s true,” Mellie said. “Kurt is younger than Gerry, but I’ve never looked at him as a surrogate child. Maybe it’s inappropriate, but I consider him a dear friend. There are things we’ve told each other that we’ve never told anyone else. I trust him more than I do people my own age and older.

“He’s never really been a child,” she continued. “He wasn’t allowed to be. Part of me mourns that he has been treated so terribly for something he cannot control, something for which he should feel no shame, but everything he’s endured, awful as it was, has made him who he is. I love that person.”

She sighed. “All I know is that he loved Gerry, and I’m grateful for that. After our son died, one of the things I regretted the most was that Gerry had never known love. When I found out about them, I was relieved. I was happy that Gerry died knowing he was loved as the man he was becoming, not just as a son or brother.”

“Why are you both telling me this now?” Fitz asked.

“You know we’re having dinner with him on Friday,” Olivia said. “You and Kurt are close, Fitz, but I’m sure you’ve sensed how he tends to carry himself around you. He’s more cautious, more closed off. I’m not blaming you at all, but I think it’s past time you understood why he acts the way he does. He loves you very much, and I know you love him, and you deserve to know why he sometimes feels anxious around you.”

“You don’t want me to say anything to him about Gerry,” he surmised.

“I want you to let him to instigate it, if he chooses to discuss it. Please don’t push him. I don’t know if Gerry’s death is why Kurt doesn’t date, but I do believe he hasn’t processed it fully. I think he’s holding on to Gerry not only because he’s afraid to be hurt, but because he’s terrified moving on will cause him to forget the love they shared. In his mind, Gerry will be forever sixteen and they are still desperately in love, the way only a childhood romance can make you feel.”

Mellie’s eyes filled. “You have to remember, as awful as it was to watch our son die, we were there. We tried to help. We were able to hold him and tell him goodbye. Kurt watched it on television.”

He closed his eyes. Jesus, the poor kid.

“Mellie, if Gerry was gay, nothing would have changed. I would have loved him regardless. I would have been proud of him no matter who he brought home. That it would eventually have been Kurt makes me happy, because I know what a wonderful boy he is, and because I love him in his own right and not just as an extension of Liv.

“I won’t say anything until Kurt is ready, but I’d appreciate it if one, or both of you, lets him know that nothing he could ever say, nothing he could ever do, nothing he could ever _be_ , would cause me to stop loving him.”

Mellie and Olivia looked at each other, remembering the reasons they both had fallen in love with this man.

 

* * *

  

“Another body?” Seeley asked Camille as she retook her seat at the table.

She looked at him, and then quickly at the others, and shook her head. “It was Kurt.”

Seeley’s eyes lighted. “When is he coming to visit?”

She bit her lip. “Actually, he’s already here. I forgot to tell you. Sorry.”

He narrowed his eyes. “Where is he staying? Not with you.”

She rolled hers in response. “He’s staying with Blake for the month. He’ll move in with me in July.”

Brennan blinked. “A man is moving into your home?”

Cam scowled and gave her the side-eye. “Kurt is my nephew, Dr. Brennan.”

“I didn’t know Felicia had children.”

“She doesn’t. Kurt is the son of my elder sister, Suzanne.”

Hodgins frowned. “I’m sorry, _what?_ You’ve never said anything about having another sister.”

“Because it’s no one’s business,” Cam said sharply.

Sweets looked at her. “You’re only this defensive when you’re in Protective Mode,” he said quietly, ever the shrink. “Your nephew must be very important to you.”

“Extremely.”

“We’re just surprised, Cam,” said a soothing Angela. “You’ve never mentioned him, so we’re understandably curious. No offense intended.”

Cam sighed. “None taken. I’m sorry. I just … Kurt is very special to me. He’s all I have left of Suzanne.”

Angela softened. “She’s gone?”

Cam offered a tight nod. “More than ten years now. Ovarian cancer.”

Brennan frowned. “That’s a terrible and insidious disease. You have my condolences.”

“Thank you. She was a lovely woman. I …” she trailed off.

“You don’t have to explain,” Seeley cut in.

“Actually, I do. I haven’t told you all, but you know I’ll have a new intern next month. It’s Kurt. He didn’t tell me until after he had applied and been accepted.”

“He didn’t want you to be accused of nepotism,” Sweets deduced.

She nodded.

“He must be very qualified,” Brennan said.

“He is. He graduated high school last month with honors. He’s already completed two years of undergraduate work at community college and will start GW in the fall a second-semester sophomore.”

Brennan was impressed. It was rare children that age pursued their studies to such an extent, and she could only admire this young man for doing so. “He wants to be a doctor?”

Cam nodded. “He’s declaring a biochemistry major with a pre-medicine concentration. He plans to be a pathologist.”

“It runs in the family,” Angela smiled.

Cam grinned. “Not just me, but yes. One of his godmothers is also a forensic pathologist.”

Booth looked at the others. “Megan Hunt.”

Hodgins whistled. “I’ve heard of her. Out of Philadelphia, right? I’ve caught a couple of interviews with her. Brilliant woman. Scary as hell, but brilliant.”

“What is Kurt like?” Brennan asked.

Cam raised a brow. “Actually, he’s a fan of yours.”

“He’s read my books?”

“Your journal articles.”

Brennan’s respect increased. “He’s a serious student, then, not just reasonably intelligent.”

“He as an IQ of one-hundred and sixty-eight. He speaks eleven languages, seven of them fluently, and reads and writes Greek and Latin. He played on his high school football team for a year, winning them their only game. He left and joined the cheerleading squad, leading them to three national titles. He has a four-octave singing voice and led his glee club to two national titles. He’s also a fully-certified car mechanic.”

Sweets stared. “ _Wow_.”

Brennan tilted her head. “Cam, the résumé is impressive and your nephew is more than qualified for the position, so why are you still so defensive?”

“Kurt hasn’t had an easy life,” Booth interjected. “In fact, a lot of it has been downright miserable. His mom died when he was a kid, he’s too smart for his own good, an avowed atheist, and he grew up gay in a small town in Ohio. He’s never been able to hide who he is, and he should never have felt as though he should. The town did not like him and made sure to let him know it at every opportunity.”

Brennan’s frown was thunderous. She had absolutely no time for those who chose to ignore simple biological imperatives. She certainly had no time for those who persecuted children because of high intelligence. She had no patience for those who insisted on affixing a religious or dogmatic explanation to everyday events.

She knew what it was to be a child who lost their mother, and how that loss informed the person you became. The intrigue this unknown young man inspired within her had now segued to some bizarre form of fraternal devotion. She not only wanted to meet Kurt, but to protect him. Against what, she had no idea. It was very confusing.

Angela, an out and proud bisexual who had experienced her own share of prejudice, was saddened and appalled by what Booth was suggesting Kurt had endured.

“I take it you know Kurt,” Hodgins said to Booth.

“Seeley and I were still dating when Suzanne died,” Cam said. “He escorted me to the funeral. We stayed for a week after the service, during which time Booth and Kurt became extremely close. Kurt regards Seeley as an uncle and unofficial godfather.”

Booth puffed up with pride. “I love that kid. I’d take a bullet for him, and happily put bullets into those who hurt him.”

The others, save Cam, were somewhat surprised. Booth was a devout Catholic and had made off-color remarks about homosexuals. Of course, he made off-color remarks about absolutely everything and everyone. Unless you knew him well, it was difficult to discern whether or not he meant them, if the comments were jokes, or if they were defense mechanisms.

His love for Cam’s nephew, however, was abundantly clear.

“You said he was staying with someone named Blake?” Hodgins asked.

Cam looked at Seeley, who shrugged. At last, she sighed.

“There’s a lot you don’t know about my family,” she admitted. “I don’t like sharing it because, well, it’s rather sordid.”

Angela, always primed for gossip, desperately wanted to know more, but understood discretion was the better part of valor in this circumstance.

“We’re happy to listen to whatever you’re willing to share, Cam,” she said, “and if that’s nothing at all, we’ll accept that.”

Brennan, Sweets, and Hodgins nodded.

Cam pursed her lips. “Robert Saroyan is actually my stepfather, though he adopted me after he married my mother. They then had Felicia. I didn’t know any of this until after I graduated medical school. I had no reason to suspect anything else.”

They stared at her in shock, but held their tongues.

“I never met my natural father, who was white and a French national. My mother met him when she was studying abroad her junior year in college. They fell in love, had a passionate affair, and then it was over. She left Paris not knowing she was pregnant. I was just over a year old when she met in fell in love with the man I consider my father.”

“Did your biological father know about you?” Brennan asked.

“He did. My mother wrote to him and explained the situation, asking that he not contact her or interfere in her life, or mine.” She paused. “I still don’t know how I feel about that. He respected her wishes, and I don’t know how I feel about _that_ , either. Like I said, as far as I’m concerned, Robert Saroyan _is_ my father, but I can’t help but wonder what my life might have been had I known Sebastian Delacroix.”

Hodgins gaped at her.

She smirked. “So you’ve put it together. Considering your family, I figured you would.”

He wisely said nothing.

She looked at the others. “Sebastian was married when he had the affair with Mom. His wife was Katrine Valois. You’ve probably heard of her.”

They nodded dumbly.

“Sebastian was a French aristocrat, the _Comte Delacroix_. His family was land-rich but cash-poor. It was something of a scandal when Katrine married him. Her legacy is well-known. Hers was one of the few noble families to survive and thrive after the Revolution. She can trace her ancestry back to Eleanor of Aquitaine and, through her, to Charlemagne. Many believed she was ruining herself by marrying a man beneath her.”

Camille turned pensive. “Katrine’s reputation speaks for itself. She has spent most of her life as a philanthropist, raising hundreds of millions of dollars for the charities she supports. Her work was never merely _noblesse oblige_. She truly believes we are put on this earth to help other people. She doesn’t just lend her name to charities. She doesn’t just give her money or her time. She gives of herself. ”

She paused. “Katrine is a remarkable woman. She was one of the first to embrace the victims of the AIDS epidemic in the eighties, and she continues to fight for a cure. She worked with Princess Diana on her quest to end the use of landmines. She has accompanied Angelina Jolie on many humanitarian missions to help with the worldwide refugee crisis. She sits on the boards of a dozen international charities. She is probably the most compassionate person I know.”

She cleared her throat. “Sebastian and Katrine had one child together, my sister Suzanne, who left France when she was eighteen to attend university. She studied Art History and Piano Performance at Oberlin.”

Brennan was impressed. Oberlin wasn’t Ivy League, but it was superlative institute for the study of the arts. She adored music and, while not a musician herself, deeply respected those who were true artists.

“Suzanne was traveling through rural Ohio to a recital when her car broke down. This was before cell phones and OnStar. She was lucky someone stopped to help her. He repaired her car and she made it to the performance. She didn’t know until after that he had followed her. He had fallen in love as he watched her play. She fell in love with him not long after. Suzanne decided to remain in Ohio, she married Burt, and they had Kurt.”

Camille spoke of her sister with such love and such devotion, such heartbreak and longing, they others could tell how close they must have been.

She blinked back the tears in her eyes. “Kurt was six when she died. Suzanne had been pregnant, almost four months along, when she was rushed to the hospital. It was an ectopic pregnancy. They discovered the tumors during an ultrasound.”

“That’s _awful_ ,” Angela whispered, tears slipping down her face.

“It really was,” Cam agreed, her voice cracking. “Kurt’s birth wasn’t easy and, for a while, Suzanne and Burt believed they wouldn’t be able to have more children. When they found out she was pregnant, they were ecstatic. So was Kurt; he’d always wanted a sibling. They even let him name the baby. It was … it was just horrible.”

“You never told me that,” Booth whispered. “What name did he choose?”

Cam swallowed and closed her eyes. “Olivia Camille.”

His jaw flexed as he quickly looked away.

She took a moment to breathe and then opened her eyes. “Olivia was in honor of his other godmother, Suzanne’s best friend, Olivia Pope.”

“Holy shit,” Sweets murmured.

“Suzanne and Olivia met in boarding school in Switzerland,” Camille continued, “and became fast friends. They … I don’t know Olivia well, despite the fact that we live in the same city. Like I said before, I only found out about Sebastian, and thus Suzanne, when I was an adult. Suzanne had no idea about me, either. She and Olivia grew up together and were as close as sisters.

“Suzanne embraced me immediately. She never saw me as half a sibling. She never cared we looked nothing alike or had little in common. Our connection was instant; we felt as though we’d known each other our entire lives. She was gone a year later.”

Booth took her hand.

“As hard as it was for me,” she warbled, “it was so much worse for Olivia. She’s never gotten over it. She knows everyone who is everyone, but has very few close friends, and she will never allow them to be as close to her as Suzanne was. She made it through the service, but had to be sedated after the burial. We regard each other as family, but we aren't close. We were only connected through Suzanne and, now, Kurt.”

“May I ask how you and Suzanne found each other?” Brennan questioned.

Camille snorted. “After Sebastian died and his will was being probated, Katrine was given a letter. Sebastian admitted his affair with Mom and that he had another child. He had left me a trust fund and asked Katrine to administer it personally, rather than through his attorney.”

“Yikes,” Hodgins muttered.

“You don’t know the half of it. Apparently Sebastian had trouble keeping his fly closed. He later had another affair with yet another American woman. He was in New York, checking up on me from the shadows, and things happened. It resulted in another illegitimate child, my brother Blake, whose story is similar to mine and was also in the dark about his parentage.”

“Jesus Christ,” Angela hissed. “That poor woman.” Her eyes widened. “Sorry!”

“Don’t be,” Camille said. “Believe me, I felt the same. Katrine is an incredible woman and Sebastian was the great love of her life. She was devoted to him and always faithful. She couldn’t have children after Suzanne, though she longed for them. She looked at me and Blake and saw not the products of our father’s infidelities, but as the children of her husband.

“She embraced us. We’re not terribly close, but Blake and I both love her and consider her a maternal figure. She has never resented us. Frankly, I don’t understand it. I sincerely doubt I could ever be as gracious.”

“So Kurt is staying with Blake?” Brennan asked, not liking the emotional rollercoaster she was experiencing second-hand.

Camille nodded. “Blake had just started at Harvard when Sebastian died. Katrine was sick with grief at the time and, though she wanted to come herself, she was unable and sent her attorney to the States to make initial contact. I think she was scared of how we would react, and I don’t blame her.

“It wasn’t easy for me, but Blake was barely an adult. Everything he thought he knew about his life was a lie. His mother had never told him and, like my mother, she married soon after his birth to a man who adopted Blake as his own. Suddenly, a lawyer shows up at his dorm room, shattering all of his illusions and handing him papers which detailed a multi-million dollar trust from a father he had never known and would never get the chance to meet.

“We both tried to return the money, but Katrine was adamant. She insisted it was ours by right. I’ve often wondered just how much of it came from Sebastian. As I said, he was noble, but not wealthy. His marriage to Katrine allowed him a lifestyle he would otherwise not have enjoyed. He was a very successful financier, but I do think Katrine contributed to the trusts.”

She shook her head. “Not as hush money. She has never denied us as Sebastian’s children. I think she needed to know that Blake and I would always be taken care of, to make sure we had everything she couldn’t give to Suzanne.”

She sighed. “After the lawyer visited, I wasn’t … I was not kind. My mother was dead by then. I refused to meet with Katrine. I wanted nothing to do with Sebastian and his legacy. I had no interest in Suzanne or Blake, despite the fact I had often wished for siblings other than Felicia, with whom I’ve never gotten along. I was dating Seeley at the time and he insisted I at least meet with Suzanne, who had been blindsided by all of this and was intent on knowing her brother and sister.”

Her tears spilled over. “Thank god I listened. If hadn’t, I wouldn’t have had that year with Suzanne. In my hurt, I would probably have never known my nephew or my brother. I wouldn’t be a part of this incredible family.”

“You mean more than Kurt and Blake, don’t you?” Angela asked.

Camille nodded. “Suzanne was an only child, but there are numerous cousins of whom Katrine has kept track throughout the years. Not to mention that Burt has a very large extended family, all of whom have welcomed me and Blake as part of them. It was initially incredibly overwhelming, but now I’m just so grateful.”

Seeley patted her hand, but snorted. “Right. Tell them who else you consider family.”

She glared at him. “I don’t see how that’s relevant.”

“Oh, now you _have_ to tell us!” Angela insisted.

Camille rolled her eyes. “Fine. I’ve told you about Kurt. His father, Burt, is a United States congressman.”

“ _Burt Hummel?_ ” Sweets whispered.

She nodded. “Blake is the executive assistant to Elizabeth McCord.”

Brennan startled. “The Secretary of State?”

She was astonished. Elizabeth McCord was one of the only bureaucrats she respected, even liked.

“Blake and Kurt had dinner at her house tonight, actually.”

Seeley smirked. “Go on.”

“Stop being so smug,” she barked. “They’re _my_ family.”

He grinned. “Yeah, but I will always be Kurt’s Uncle Seeley, so I totally count.”

“Not for much,” she argued, shaking her head. “When I say I have a large family, that really doesn’t suggest the scope of it. As I said, Katrine’s family dates back hundreds of generations and she’s kept track of all the descendants.”

“Are you kidding?” asked a surprised Sweets.

“Not at all. She also tries to find those lost to the genealogy, especially children who were orphaned. The closest family member, at least geographically, would be my cousin Ezra, who lives just outside Philadelphia in a town called Rosewood. He’s a Fitzgerald. Yes, one of _those_ Fitzgeralds.”

They stared at her.

“Ancestors of Sebastian, two brothers, quarreled over a woman centuries ago. The brother who lost emigrated from France to Ireland, where he eventually married another woman, taking the name of her clan for himself. That was the Clan Fitzgerald. Ezra and his brother are the last of the Clan here in America, though Wesley has no interest in anything other than his trust fund.

“Ezra, however, is very much involved in the family. He’s twenty-three and a high-school literature teacher. He and Kurt are quite close, given that they’re separated by the fewest years.”

A fascinated Angela withdrew a pad from her purse and began writing this down.

“The Fitzgeralds branched off several generations back and intermarried with Clan Magillicuddy. When some of the Magillicuddys emigrated to America, they changed their name to MacGill. Most of them eventually married into other families, some Irish and some not, and were lost to the annals of history, but there is one, about Katrine’s age, who embraced the idea of what we are. Her name was Jessica MacGill.”

She raised a brow. “I believe you know her, Temperance. Sutton House represents both of you.”

Brennan stared. What did her publisher have to do with this?

“Jessica MacGill married the son of another Irish immigrant family, Frank Fletcher. They settled in Maine. After he died, she began writing murder mysteries.”

Brennan blinked. “Do you mean J.B. Fletcher?”

Camille nodded.

“J.B. Fletcher is your cousin?”

“Yes, though we all refer to her as our aunt.”

“I love her books!” Sweets exclaimed. “She has an uncanny insight into the criminal mind.”

“Her reputation as a criminologist speaks for itself,” said a sedate Booth. “She has assisted the Bureau on a number of cases, as well as the Company, Scotland Yard, and Interpol.”

Camille smirked. “It must run in the family. There’s another who has followed in Aunt Jess’ footsteps. I don’t think even you know this, Seeley, though I know you enjoy his books.”

Booth raised a brow.

“Richard Castle.”

He reared back. “Seriously?”

She nodded.

“Can you get me an autograph?”

She curled a lip.

He snickered. “Most of Cam’s family is involved in law enforcement in some form. I don’t think there’s an agency that isn’t represented.”

Camille tilted her head. “That’s probably true."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The following is a list of characters, by no means comprehensive, I've borrowed from various fandoms to flesh out Kurt's family. This chapter was so large, I've split it into two. Another list will follow the subsequent chapter.
> 
> In this verse, and most of the others, Kurt is the son of Burt Hummel and Suzanne Delacroix, a French national. Suzanne's identity is somewhat purposely vague in these stories, so that I can transform her into other, well-known characters. The relatives included here tend to be constants in this verse.
> 
> Dr. Camille Saroyan (Bones): A forensic pathologist who heads the Medicolegal Division of the Jeffersonian Institute. The Jeffersonian is analogous to the Smithsonian. She is black and a former police officer. She is Suzanne's half-sister, by way of their father, French aristocrat Sebastian Delacroix. Camille was adopted by her mother's husband, Robert Saroyan, and has a half-sister Felicia.
> 
> Her teams consists of Special Agent Seeley Booth of the FBI, whom she once dated and regards Kurt as an honorary nephew; Dr. Temperance Brennan, a forensic anthropologist and author; Angela Montenegro, Brennan's best friend and a forensic artist; Jack Hodgins, Angela's paramour and a forensic entomologist; and Lance Sweets, a psychologist. Dr. Zack Addy, assistant to Brennan, will sometimes appear.
> 
> BTW, I didn't not choose the name Sebastian for Sebastian Smythe, a character I don't write and never will. I just like the name.
> 
> Blake Moran (Madam Secretary): The half-brother of Suzanne and Camille, by way of Sebastian. He is a Harvard graduate and the assistant to the Secretary of State, Elizabeth McCord. He's a new addition to this verse. I chose him because he physically resembles Kurt, is similarly fastidious and witty, and is bisexual. I like the idea of Kurt having an older relative who is so much like him.
> 
> Other characters from this fandom include Henry, Stevie, Alison, and Jason McCord, the family of the Secretary; and her senior staff, Nadine Tolliver, Daisy Grant, Matt Mahoney, and Jay Whitman. Elizabeth is the appointee of President Conrad Dalton.
> 
> Olivia Pope (Scandal): One of Kurt's godmothers. She is black and was the best friend of Suzanne during their time at Swiss boarding school. She lives in DC and is a political fixer who runs her own crisis management firm, Olivia Pope & Associates. She is the former White House Communications Director and mistress of President Fitzgerald Grant and shares a complex relationship with his ex-wife, Senator Mellie Grant.
> 
> Megan Hunt (Body of Proof): Kurt's other godmother and, like Camille, a forensic pathologist who is based out of Philadelphia. Megan was a trained neurologist and considered among the best in her field, but the death of a patient on the operating table ended her career. She cross-trained and became a pathologist. Her relationship to Suzanne is, as of yet, unexplored.
> 
> Brenda Leigh Johnson (The Closer): A distant cousin of Burt's, who was born and raised in Georgia. She was a CIA operative trained extensively in interrogation, speaks several languages, was a former officer of the Metropolitan Police Department in DC, and took over the Major Crimes Squad in LA for several years before departing for the DA's office. She is married to Special Agent Fritz Howard of the FBI.
> 
> Thomas "Tommy" Lynley (The Inspector Lynley Mysteries): The eighth Earl of Asherton who is a detective with Scotland Yard and one of Suzanne's many cousins. He is partnered with Detective Sergeant Barbara Havers.
> 
> I adore Barbara, though she hasn't been seen in any of these verses, though that will change. I'm just a huge fan of the novels and television series.
> 
> Ezra Fitz/Fitzgerald (Pretty Little Liars): a distant cousin on Suzanne's side who is the member of a prominent American family which is slowly dwindling in size. He is a trust fund baby who left his family when he refused to allow his mother to control his life. He has a brother, Wesley. He lives in Rosewood, a Philadelphia suburb, where is a high-school English teacher. He is dating one of his students, Aria Montgomery.
> 
> Jessica Fletcher (Murder, She Wrote): A distant cousin of Suzanne. Camille, and Blake, she lives in Cabot Cove, Maine. A former high-school English teacher, she took up writing after the death of her husband, Frank. All of her books were well-received and she enjoys an international reputation as a beloved author. She also teaches Criminology at a New York City university on a part-time basis. She frequently assists law enforcement, with or without their consent, when she stumbles upon a murder, which is often. She has a keen sense of observation and has a knack for being in the right place and the right time.
> 
> Richard Castle (Castle): Like Jessica, Rick is a mystery author who frequently works with the NYPD in solving murders.


	5. Origins

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The continuing saga of Kurt's extended family, as related by Camille Saroyan.

Ninety minutes later, all of them were gawking at Camille. It was so hard to comprehend, yet they absolutely believed her. She had no reason to lie and, considering some of the more infamous members of her family, every reason to protect them.

Angela had developed an extensive family tree with the limited knowledge Camille had imparted, and she found it almost unfathomable that so many disparate people could be related on a biological level. That they all knew each other, loved and supported one another, was astonishing.

Their strange and seemingly unrelated choices to enter law enforcement or medicine were almost preternatural, as was the fact that most of Suzanne’s cousins were female, while those of Burt were predominantly male.

“That’s pretty accurate,” Camille said, glancing down at the drawing.

“I can’t believe I’ve actually heard of most of these people,” Brennan muttered. Considering how removed she was from the world around her, this surprised her.

“There are more than I realized,” Booth admitted.

The others were crowded around Angela’s drawing, looking at it with intense scrutiny. Most of the names were familiar, though there were some they knew but couldn’t directly place.

Suzanne’s cousins were more numerous and tended to fly under the radar, while the Congressman’s were more notorious.

First was Patrick Jane, a former carnival worker and fake psychic, who had taunted and garnered the attention of a serial called Red John. Red John went on to butcher Jane’s wife and child in retaliation. Jane spent several years as a consultant with the California Bureau of Investigation, where he put his skills as a mentalist to great use in tracking and apprehending murderers, many of whom received national attention.

During this time, he was simultaneously hunting Red John, who taunted Jane at every turn, including trying to kill his colleagues. After seven years they finally crossed paths, with Jane emerging as the victor. Eventually his team, the Serious Crimes Unit, was absorbed into the FBI. Jane had recently married his supervisor, Teresa Lisbon.

Second was Brenda Leigh Johnson, formerly of the CIA and the Metropolitan Police Department. Considered one of the finest interrogators alive, she had been appointed a Deputy Chief of the Los Angeles Police Department, where she headed the Major Crimes Squad. She was renowned for her phenomenal closure rate, though her methods were roundly criticized, not that she cared. She had married Special Agent Fritz Howard of the FBI, who was known to Booth, before leaving the LAPD to become the Chief of Investigations at the Los Angeles County District Attorney’s Office. She was currently pregnant with her first, and most likely only, child.

Next was Neil Caffrey, widely believed to be one of the world’s greatest con artists currently living. Gifted with model looks and charm to spare, he eluded authorities for years, until one dedicated FBI agent, Peter Burke, eventually took him down. Neil was convicted on a minor charge, the only one the authorities could definitively prove. After serving almost four years, Neil escaped. He then gave assistance to the very agent that convicted him and became a consultant with the FBI. Like Patrick and Brenda, Neil was a closer.

It was rumored Caffrey was now in a triad relationship with Burke and his gorgeous wife, Elizabeth. Camille refused to confirm the rumor, though she also didn’t deny it.

Next was a name only Booth recognized. He couldn’t help but wonder if mention had been made to Secretary McCord, as the Office of Scientific Intelligence was an agency loosely under her purview. The actual existence of the OSI was a carefully-guarded secret, however, and it was more than possible McCord had no idea as to its personnel.

Booth only knew of Jaime Sommers because of a case that had piggybacked onto an old one of hers. He had never met the woman and most likely never would; they had only spoken over the phone. She lived in Ojai, California, and was something of a recluse, a reputation he often believed was purposeful, designed to obfuscate that she was still an active agent. Officially, she was a tennis instructor.

Unofficially, and known to almost none, she was the Bionic Woman.

He  _did_  wonder if Camille knew just who Jaime truly was. Camille could be incredibly circumspect when the situation warranted, though he could usually read her body language and what her face  _wasn’t_  saying. She confirmed she knew Jaime, but nothing else.

Booth surmised it was most likely Cam had no idea. After all, Jaime was Burt’s cousin, and despite how close the family was and how they congregated around Kurt, there was no need for anyone to know. However, he strongly believed that if anyone  _did_  know, it most likely was Kurt.

Actually, now that he thought about it, it was more than possible that Kurt was in possession of any number of what could be deemed  _national_   _secrets_. He had never considered that before, but now it worried him. He knew the family had done their utmost to protect Kurt, including some methods that were only insinuated, ones he wished never to know.

But was it enough?

“Are you all right?” Camille softly asked.

He grunted, nodding his head, and offering to get another round of drinks. He pretended he didn’t feel her eyes on him as he strode toward the bar.

Sweets was racking his brains, trying to remember where and when he had heard the name  _Allison_   _DuBois_. The woman was one of Camille’s biological cousins on Suzanne’s side, and though Camille didn’t delve into too much detail, that name had set off an alarm in his mind. He knew it would drive him crazy until he found the answer, but also knew Camille was unlikely to provide one.

He would look into it later.

Allison lived in Phoenix with two of her daughters, Bridgette and Marie, and worked as a paralegal at the Maricopa County District Attorney’s Office while attending law school part-time. Her husband of twenty years had recently perished in a plane crash. Her eldest daughter, Ariel, was a freshman at Dartmouth.

Mentioned with Allison was another cousin, Melinda Gordon, who lived in a Grandview, a small town in upstate New York. She ran an antiques shop with a partner and was married to Jim Clancy. They had a young son, Aidan.

It was odd, Sweets noted, how Camille spoke of Allison and Melinda with such affection, but said almost nothing about them. He wished he hadn’t had that last drink. There was something about all of this that demanded closer scrutiny, though he couldn’t explain why.

Also in New York, but in the City, was Alexandra Cabot, who was a Manhattan Assistant District Attorney and oversaw the Special Victims Unit. Camille provided more detail about Alex, perhaps because she herself was former NYPD, though she and Alex had never worked together. Apparently Alex had once drawn the attention of a local mob boss who put out a hit on her.

Hodgins blinked. He didn’t even know that was an actual  _thing_.

At any rate, Alex had faked her death and entered WITSEC for two years, finally revealing herself when her attempted murderer was being tried for another crime. She had since reclaimed her life and resumed her position as an ADA. Her successful prosecution rate, at over ninety-percent, was impressive.

Further up the East Coast was Boston and Doctor Maura Isles who, like Cam and Megan, was a forensic pathologist. In fact, despite her relatively young age, she was the Chief Medical Examiner for the Commonwealth of Massachusetts, overseeing all medical examiners and coroners who were employed by the state.

Brennan recognized the name. She held a strong respect for Maura Isles as a professional and fellow intellectual, and thought it horrid the woman’s own colleagues referred to her as  _the Queen of the Dead_. Maura and Brennan had only met once at a forensic conference several years prior, but never before had Brennan felt so understood by a colleague and fellow woman. They didn’t keep in regular contact other than emailing with regard to some of their more bizarre cases.

What Brennan couldn’t comprehend was why Maura had never mentioned Camille. She knew Brennan worked for the Jeffersonian and thus that Camille was her direct supervisor, but the subject had never been raised. She thought it odd.

Camille explained that Maura was technically a cousin via adoption. She had been adopted as an infant by Doctor Arthur Isles and his wife Constance, who was a first cousin of Katrine, though English and not French. Maura had little curiosity about her biological family until, six years ago, the DNA analysis of a murder victim proved him to be Maura’s fraternal brother.

It was then discovered that Maura’s birth parents were Doctor Hope Martin, a physician renowned for the international humanitarian work she performed, and Paddy Doyle, a South Boston Irish mob legend. Maura had attempted to pull back from her adoptive family in order to protect them, but they refused. They loved her and always would, regardless of biology.

Camille said the only member of their family ever to breech Maura’s defenses was Kurt. They adored each other, and Kurt had strongly considered both Harvard and Boston College in order to be close to Maura. In the end, he had chosen GW as it would put him within walking distance of Olivia, Camille, and Blake, as well as because Burt lived part-time in the District. Maura took no offense and encouraged him to surround himself with family.

Booth returned and dispensed the drinks, receiving little gratitude. The others were far too enthralled by the story of Camille’s family. Indeed, they had never before heard her relate so much personal information about herself. It was obvious she took great pride in her family. Considering their accomplishments, it only made sense.

They did, however, pick up on the subtle cues Booth was displaying as Camille continued.

Another cousin also lived in Boston and, like Seeley, was a Special Agent with the FBI. As soon as the name  _Olivia Dunham_  passed Camille’s lips, Seeley froze like a deer in headlights.

He knew that name. Every FBI agent knew that name, though none would ever acknowledge it, even under torture. Despite dealing with large amounts of classified data, there were some divisions within the FBI that simply weren’t discussed, not even amongst the top brass.

Especially the Fringe Division.

It was obvious Camille didn’t expect Seeley to recognize the name, so she gave no thought about uttering it. But he did recognize it. Camille’s description of Olivia was more of a prepared statement, which suggested to him she knew  _exactly_  what the position entailed.

This was dangerous. If she did know, Camille was in danger. If Olivia had discussed her work outside her office, then  _she_  was in danger. Not to mention the woman would be tried and convicted for treason, and so would Camille and perhaps her entire family.

The only caveat was that Camille explained that Olivia, though related by blood, was a recent addition to the family. She had been orphaned at a young age and was subsumed by the foster care system, which made Brennan scowl. Katrine had stumbled upon Olivia’s birth records while in search of another lost relative and brought her immediately into the family. Given that Olivia’s work was classified, however, most of their communication with her was via emails and texts.

Just as Booth was starting to get his bearings, Camille dropped another bombshell.

Yet another cousin, and yet another female, was Myka Bering, an officer with the United States Secret Service. Booth knew a lot of Secret Service agents, and while that name struck somewhat of a bell, he couldn’t remember why. Something about a minor scandal involving a workplace relationship that wasn’t sanctioned by the agency.

He automatically dismissed it until Camille casually mentioned that Myka had left DC and now lived in South Dakota, which the others had all but forgotten was a state. They did, however, wonder what business the Secret Service had in the middle of nowhere. Camille reminded them the Secret Service was under the purview of Homeland Security and formerly part of the U.S. Treasury Department. She explained Myka’s work was classified and they let it go.

Not Booth.

Secret Service?  _South Dakota?_

That could only mean one thing: Warehouse Thirteen.

_Fuck_.

This family, of which Booth had considered himself an unofficial member for more than a decade, was now a complete mystery to him. How had he not know of any of this? Why was Camille telling him, and the others, now?

It was almost as though she were … warning … them?

But why? For what purpose?

Was someone or something after her? After the family?

Any why now? The only recent change was …

Kurt’s arrival in DC.

Well,  _fuck_  that. He wasn’t going to allow anything or anyone to hurt his little Kurty.

Seeley suspected Camille would offer no further commentary, which meant he was going to have to find the answers himself. He would, and he would be careful, but he had a niggling feeling he needed to begin his search sooner rather than later.

 

* * *

 

 

“So I guess that’s everyone,” Angela said, stunned at the detailed chart she had created.

Camille laughed, tears of mirth ringing her eyes. “Not by a long shot! Those are just the cousins closest to me.”

“ _What?_ ” Hodgins demanded. “You mean there’s  _more?_ ”

She smirked and offered a regal nod in reply.

“What’s next?” Sweets asked, snorting. “Royalty?”

“Actually …”

“That was my joke guess!”

She shrugged.

Booth turned and leaned toward her ear. “You’ve never told me this.”

“There’s a lot I haven’t told you, Seeley, and for good reason,” she whispered. “Right now, I ask that you trust me. Hopefully, you’ll never need to do anything with this information, but if something should happen to me or Michelle, to Kurt or Burt, or to Blake, you will be able to call on unlimited resources.”

He pulled back and stared at her, his face a perfect blank as the others observed the interaction, the air around them now charged with some strange sense of foreboding.

“What’s going on?” Angela asked.

“This is actually something I’ve never told Seeley,” Cam rushed to explain, “because I didn’t want to compromise his professional or ethical integrity. However, since it’s doubtful he’ll ever make her acquaintance, there’s no need to hide it longer.”

“Hide what?” asked a suspicious Hodgins.

She took in a breath. “I am not royal and, though I’m descended from nobility, I am not titled. Sebastian was a French viscount, but because of primogeniture, Suzanne and I were skipped over and the title was bequeathed to Blake, even though he's illegitimate. He doesn’t want it and his reasons are his own. As Suzanne has passed and I’m the only other heir, Katrine kindly offered it to me, but I didn’t want it either. It has requirements I’m not willing to meet.”

Her tone made it clear she would not be further expanding upon that explanation. “So Kurt will receive both his grandparents’ titles on his twenty-fifth birthday. Katrine will probably press him to accept them sooner, but unless her health suddenly declines, Kurt will refuse.”

“Okay …” Angela said slowly.

Camille cleared her throat. “What many people don’t know is that Katrine’s father, Jean-Pierre, was previously married, though the union was later annulled. Katrine has a half-sister who, well, let’s just say has become rather infamous. Due to some fancy legal maneuvering, she was never declared illegitimate, though she was not eligible to receive the family titles.

“That suited her just fine. Her mother remarried, this time to a Greek aristocrat, who recognized her as his legitimate daughter, and she inherited his titles and a large estate. After reaching her majority, a marriage was arranged for her to a member of Greek royalty. Surprisingly, it turned into a love match. She birthed two male heirs and her future was secure.

“She resented her natural father, but truly came to care and love Katrine. They are separated by only a few years and are quite close.”

“Why are you telling us this, Cam?” Brennan asked, wanting to get to the point.

Camille frowned. “Katrine’s sister became unhinged after the death of her eldest son, Prince Stavros. She had always considered her spare heir, Stefan, beneath her and unworthy of the legacy of his father. Stavros did have a son before he died, the Prince Nikolas, and she pinned all her hopes and dreams for the future of her family on him.”

She sighed. “Though Nikolas is well-suited to his station, he takes more after his mother, a commoner, than he does his father, who was simply evil.”

Sweets blinked. It wasn’t like Camille to throw around such an adjective. She must have meant it.

“She couldn’t disinherit Nikolas, though she certainly tried. She has no use for me or Blake. We are, after all, illegitimate. Katrine may have embraced us, but her sister is a far different matter. She would happily slit our throats if Katrine hadn’t forbidden it. She’s done it before, including right in front of the five-year-old illegitimate daughter of her husband.”

Hodgins was horrified and Angela looked ready to vomit.

“Instead she decided to focus her affections on someone she knew was no threat to her, and has become almost fanatical in her devotion.”

Seeley’s eyes widened. “Kurt?” he asked hesitantly.

Camille nodded. “She will never hurt him. Despite the love between her and her sister, she knows Katrine would kill her should she ever try to harm Kurt. That said, she has many enemies and is aware her past actions could put Kurt in danger. She has vowed never to let that happen, though she continues to be a murderous bitch.”

She reared back, her gaze encompassing all of them.

“Her name is Helena Cassadine.”

They stared at her, completely gob-smacked.

“You can’t be serious,” Hodgins whispered. “That woman is insane, probably clinically so. She murders with impunity and has never been held accountable. She probably never will be.”

“I know.” She offered a sinister grin. “So, yes, there is royalty in my family. We are noble. We are wealthy, some more than others. We are a united front, though we are scattered across the globe. Most of us look nothing alike; we are all races, all nationalities, all creeds, all orientations. We have our talents, predominantly in medicine, psychology, and criminology, though there are several others. We fight for the innocent. We give voices to victims. We try to help.

“Most of my ancestors should have been emblazoned with scarlet As. Some were hanged. Some were beheaded. Some were overthrown. Many were murdered. Most, however, tried to live their lives as responsible, respectable men and women.”

She shrugged. “So that’s my family, the good and the bad. Kurt shines the brightest of us all, which is why each and every one of us will maim and murder to protect him.”

“You’re really not kidding,” Sweets whispered.

“I’m really not.”

 

* * *

 

 

The following is a list of crossover characters mentioned in this chapter and is too long for an end note. I tried to be more specific in the dialogue and exposition to give you a sense of these characters’ personalities, so I won’t go into them too deeply here.

  
**Patrick Jane (** _The Mentalist_ **)** : One of Burt’s cousins. Raised in a carnival by his father, who taught him to do cold readings and elicit response from people through leading statements. As an adult, Patrick pretended to be psychic and, on a local talk show, disparaged a California serial killer named Red John. Red John went on to murder Patrick’s wife and young daughter, Angela and Charlotte. Jane became obsessed with Red John, wanting only to avenge his family, not bring their killer to justice. Jane is a true mentalist, a keen observer who utilizes his extensive memory palace.

  
Patrick Jane is portrayed by blond Australian hunk Simon Baker.

 

**Brenda Leigh Johnson**  ( _The Closer_ ): Another of Burt’s cousins. The main protagonist of the series who has extensive training in interrogation. She uses tricks and rhetoric to prompt confessions, sometimes forcefully, but not through torture. Brenda cares about the result, not the means used to obtain it. Her ethics and morality are flexible, though she experiences trues crises of conscience and often wonders if she’s a truly good person.

Brenda Johnson is portrayed by the amazing Kyra Sedgwick.

 

**Neil Caffrey**  ( _White Collar_ ): Yet another of Burt’s cousins. Neil is a conman and white-collar criminal. He is charming and extroverted, but most of this is a façade. He had a turbulent childhood and has many insecurities, though he is well aware of his looks and charm, and is absolutely not averse to using them to his advantage. Neil is genuinely a good person, but flawed. He works as a consultant to the FBI, helping them to catch criminals much like he once was. He’s under the supervision of Agent Peter Burke, whose wife Elizabeth pops up frequently. They’re both gorgeous and there’s a lot of OT3 subtext.

Neil Caffrey is portrayed by the criminally delicious Matt Boner (typo, and it stays).

 

**Jaime Sommers**  ( _The Bionic Woman_ ): The Bionic Woman. That’s all.

Jaime Sommers is portrayed by the awesome Lindsay Wagner.

 

**Allison DuBois**  ( _Medium_ ): A cousin of Suzanne Hummel, Allison is a character who often features in my Kurt crossovers. She is the lead character of the show, about a suburban Phoenix housewife who dreams of the dead and how they were murdered. Her visions are dark and disturbing and have negatively impacted her health, resulting in a brain tumor. She suffered a stroke during an operation to remove the tumor. She works as a legal consultant/paralegal for the Phoenix District Attorney’s office, under the supervision of DA Manuel Devalos, and tries to solve the cases her visions present to her. She is frequently partnered with homicide cop Lee Scanlon. Allison’s husband is aerospace engineer Joe DuBois. They have three daughters – Ariel, Bridgette, and Marie – all of whom have inherited Allison’s abilities to some degree.

Allison DuBois is played by the wonderful Patricia Arquette.

 

**Melinda Gordon**  ( _Ghost Whisperer_ ): Another cousin of Suzanne, Melinda is able to see and speak to the dead. She does this to help their spirits crossover into the Light. Like Allison, Melinda has very little control over her abilities, though she can will away a spirit if she concentrates hard enough. She inherited her abilities from her grandmother. Her mother also has the same talents, but refuses to acknowledge them, often suggesting that Melinda is mentally disturbed. Melinda owns an antique shop and is married to Jim Clancy, and EMT. They have a son, Aidan.

Melinda Gordon is portrayed by the adorable Jennifer Love Hewitt.

 

**Alexandra Cabot**  ( _Law & Order: SVU_): Another of Suzanne’s cousins, Alex is a Manhattan Assistant District Attorney assigned to the Special Victims Unit. She works closely with detectives Olivia Benson, Elliott Stabler, Fin Tutuola, John Munch, and several others. In between stints in the DA’s office, Alex was a prosecutor for the International Criminal Court.

Alex Cabot is portrayed by the stupidly beautiful Stephanie March.

 

**Dr. Maura Isles**  ( _Rizzoli & Isles_): Yet  _another_  cousin of Suzanne’s, though through adoption. Like Camille Saroyan and Megan Hunt, Maura is a forensic pathologist. She is also the Chief Medical Examiner of the Commonwealth of Massachusetts. She is very wealthy, loves fashion and yoga, and is extremely intelligent. A voracious reader, there is almost no subject with which she is unfamiliar. Her sense of humor is somewhat kooky, and she is often naïve to people’s behavior. She works closely with her best friend, Homicide Detective Jane Rizzoli.

Maura Isles is portrayed by the gorgeous Sasha Alexander.

 

**Olivia Dunham**  ( _Fringe_ ): Yep. Another cousin of Suzanne’s. Olivia was orphaned as a young child and grew up in group homes and foster care, alienated from most other children because of her high intelligence and aloofness. She was subjected to psychological experiments which unleashed her psionic powers. As an adult, she doesn’t remember these events with any clarity and struggles to understand herself and what she can. She is based in Boston and is a Special Agent with the Fringe Division of the FBI, which investigates supernatural phenomena. 

Olivia Dunham is portrayed by the underrated Anna Torv.

 

**Myka Bering**  ( _Warehouse 13_ ): Even yet another cousin of Suzanne Hummel, Myka is a Secret Service agent banished to South Dakota to keep watch over Warehouse 13, a repository for strange artifacts imbued with powers little understood. She has an eidetic memory and is an obsessive reader. Her partner is Agent Pete Lattimer. Other team members include former-CIA operative Artie Nielsen, computer guru Claudia Donovan, and former ATF agent Steve Jinks, all of whom have their own unique talents.

Myka Bering is played by the glorious Joanne Kelly.

 

**Helena Cassadine**  ( _General Hospital_ ): Kurt’s great aunt and the half-sister of his grandmother Katrine, who married into Greek royalty. Helena is completely psychotic and seeks to control everyone in her family so that they live up to her expectations. She has two sons, Stavros and Stefan, both of whom are dead. She blames Laura Spencer and her family for this. Her grandson, Prince Nikolas, is the product of a forced marriage between Laura and Stavros.  
Helena Cassadine is portrayed by the fearsome Constance Towers. 


End file.
